


The Scent of Desire

by IneffableToreshi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Aziraphale (Good Omens), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Human AU, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Angst, Minor Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Omega Crowley (Good Omens), Omega Verse, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Romance, Romantic Fluff, Service Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), WarningThisWillRuinYouForRLRomance, Wooing, feel free to suggest more tags if you think I've missed any
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 59,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: Crowley is an omega with a unique condition that makes even the plausibility of romance extremely difficult, but his best friend and business partner, Anathema, feels certain that there is someone out there for him. That someone, she believes, is Aziraphale, a friend of Anathema's beau and one of the most gentlemanly alphas she has ever met.And it seems that she may be a bit psychic, because sparks seem to fly the moment the two meet. Could this soft, literature-loving alpha be exactly what the 'broken' omega wants and needs?Spoiler alert: Yes. Yes he is.UPDATES MONDAYS - SEE NOTES FOR MORE INFO
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 833
Kudos: 780
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads, Top Aziraphale Recs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, my lovelies, and welcome to the first chapter of "The Scent of Desire"! 
> 
> If you've followed my account you may know that I've spent the past while working on "Revenge Omens", which was a joy but also a seemingly-nonstop avalanche of angst and agony. That is why I'm flipping in the exact opposite direction for my current project! "The Scent of Desire" will contain brief moments of angst here and there, but will overwhelmingly be gratuitous fluff and romance, and obviously smut because I need my sexy fun times. :P
> 
> I'm several chapters ahead, so I'll be uploading this fic weekly, with updates going live on Mondays. You also have the option to read ahead; head over to my author blog - http://traceytobin.wordpress.com - for more info and to find links to my social media and original works.
> 
> With all that said, thank you very much for checking out this fic, and remember that I THRIVE on your love, so please leave me a comment to let me know what you think! 
> 
> Enjoy, sweeties!

Anthony J. Crowley was not your standard omega.

Of course, it was the twenty-first century, and society wasn’t the instinct-driven free-for-all it had once been. Regardless, even considering all of the medical advancements that had been made concerning suppressants, legal precedents regarding claiming agreements, and the plentiful availability of both Alpha- and Omega-escort services, Crowley was still a bit of an...oddity. 

The tall, lanky redhead ran a rather successful floral nursery with his best friend since childhood. Anathema was an alpha, herself, and did her best to look after him, though he would have growled indignantly at the prospect that he required looking after. The long-haired, bespectacled brunette had taken him under her metaphorical wing after his parents passed; they had been in their junior year of high school, and there was no denying that it had been an incredibly rough year for the omega. Anathema’s parents weren’t as kind as their daughter, and had been perturbed by her insistence on sharing an apartment with an omega she had no intention of claiming. It was ridiculous, they’d told her, to shackle herself to someone she had no intent of mating; it would surely put off proper potential mates, leaving her alone and lonely.

Anathema, however, had been a free-spirit with a rather sharp mind of her own for as long as Crowley had known her. She had quite angrily called bullshit, proclaiming that she and her omega bestie would be just fine. 

Several years later, making use of their combined knowledge of the care and cultivation of plant life (Crowley) and the medicinal and spiritual uses of plants and herbs (Anathema), they had opened their nursery and quickly become one of the most popular floral shops in all of London. It was a wonderful arrangement that kept them both focused on what they loved to do, whilst also allowing Anathema to keep an eye on her ‘not standard’ omega friend.

Currently, that eye was watching that friend lose his absolute shit.

“Get the  _ fuck _ out of my shop, you fucking creep!” the redhead growled, teeth bared. He brandished a large ceramic pot like a weapon, giving no indication at all that he would hesitate to use it. 

The black-haired customer in front of him snarled in response. “How  _ dare _ you?!” he practically shrieked. He had a hand to his face where Crowley had clawed him with his stylishly painted black nails. A trickle of blood dripped down the line of his jaw. “Filthy fucking omega  _ whore!  _ How  _ dare _ you strike an alpha?!”

Crowley’s answering grin was all teeth and more than a little feral. “I think we’ve established that I am  _ not _ a whore, you handsy fuck,” he sneered. His voice rose a little more with each word until the plants all around him almost seemed to be trembling from the force of his anger. “Now I believe I’ve already told you to  _ get the fuck out of my shop! _ ”

Anathema had been watching the altercation quietly from behind a display since she heard the first shout. She always did her best to stay back and give Crowley his space and independence, but she knew when the moment was right for her, as an alpha, to step in. Now, as the black-haired man (who was quite a bit bigger than Crowley) growled and took a step forward, was the time. She’d placed herself between the two men before the other alpha even realized she was there. Her own teeth were bared in warning. “Time for you to leave,” she said, voice firm. 

There were a few moments of hesitation in which it seemed as though the customer might actually choose to go through with his original plan. Then his nose twitched, catching Anathema’s scent and recognizing her as the shop’s alpha owner. He sniffed and huffed, and finally turned to stalk away like a smacked puppy. A yell of, “You better fucking watch yourself, omega!” wafted back toward them as he disappeared out of the nursery’s main doors. 

“Fucking git,” Crowley growled to himself. 

Anathema heaved a deeply put-upon sigh before whirling on him with a glare. He had the good sense to look sheepish, but he also crossed his arms over his lean chest and pushed out his jaw, petulant. 

“He  _ grabbed _ a fistful of my  _ arse _ , Ana!” the redhead snapped. To an outside observer he may have appeared to be angry at  _ her _ , but Anathema knew better. She could hear the hint of fear in his voice; the same hint of it that she’d been hearing there since they were children. 

Anathema took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It obviously wasn’t that Crowley was  _ wrong _ , but- She pulled down her round spectacles and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know that I’m on your side, Crowley. I am. It’s just...you have to stop reacting with such violence whenever an alpha gets a bit pushy-”

“ _ Pushy!? _ ” Crowley balked.

“-or sooner or later you’re going to have a run-in with one who decides to  _ take _ what they want.” Anathema set her jaw and stared deep into her friend’s eyes to ensure her meaning was perfectly clear. “And I won’t always be around to help you,” she added in a softer tone.

Crowley’s teeth flashed as he snarled in defiance of the prospect. “They wouldn’t dare,” he huffed. “The claiming laws protect my rights.” 

Anathema would have rolled her eyes if she couldn’t clearly pick up the note of regret and panic in her friend’s scent. She spoke as gently as she could while lifting a finger into the air. “Firstly, you know as well as I do that as great as those laws are, they often fail when a judge refuses to take an omega’s word over an alpha’s. And secondly-” She lifted a second finger before jabbing both of them forward into Crowley’s chest, drawing a sharp wince from the redhead. “-you know damn well that there are alphas out there who are more than willing to break those laws the moment they scent an omega in heat.”

Crowley flushed a bright crimson to rival that of the long waves falling around his shoulders. “I’m- I’m not-” he stammered pointlessly, his shoulders hunching in instinctively. He could clearly see the way Anathema’s nostrils were flaring and knew that she was right. He’d been too worked up to realize it right away, and the idiot with the roaming hands likely hadn’t yet realized what was drawing him to the omega, but Anathema had years of experience in dealing with Crowley’s...less than standard cycle. She could predict it from a mile off.

Crowley wilted, all the fight going out of him at once. His jaw clamped shut and his shoulders fell as he slumped forward. Now that Anathema had pointed it out he could sense the way his body temperature was rising, the familiar desperation beginning to coil in the depths of his gut. 

Anathema sighed. “Oh come here you foolish thing,” she murmured as she pulled her friend into a gentle hug and rubbed her cheek against his neck. It wasn’t an intimate exchange of scent - they were too much like siblings for such a thing - but it served to comfort and calm Crowley for the moment.

“Sorry, Ana,” he whimpered against his friend’s shoulder. A bit of his anxiety had melted away, but he knew he didn’t have long before he would have to make himself scarce. “M’just...fuck, this is so frustrating… Feels like I  _ just _ had a goddamn heat, and when that douchebag grabbed at me like that-”

Anathema grabbed Crowley’s arms and gave them a squeeze as she pulled back to offer him a sympathetic look. She couldn’t parse the emotions that were flashing in his eyes because he was wearing those damned sunglasses he was so fond of, but she had known him long enough to suspect what was there. “Go home,” she told him in the tone of a big sister. “Lock your doors, ready your nest, and do what you have to do to get through this heat.” She offered a small smile. “One at a time, right?”

Crowley still had a petulant press to his lips, but he sniffed and murmured some nonsense sounds under his breath and finally nodded. “You’ll take care of the plants?” he asked, as he always did.

“You know I will,” Anathema told him, as she always did. “And you’ll call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” It wasn’t a question, though she knew it was something Crowley never did, no matter how many times she insisted upon it. 

He nodded none-the-less. Everything about the way he held himself was morose, frustrated, and fatigued. He pulled the work apron from around his waist and shoulders, tossing it aside before digging his keys out of a tight trouser pocket. “Keep an eye on the rhododendrons,” he muttered under his breath as he moved toward the rear exit. “They’ve been getting uppity.”

Anathema smiled, a little sadly, and right before he reached for the door she called out, “Hey Crow? What did the douchebag smell like?”

That won her a tiny crack of a smile as her friend glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Rotten fish stuffed with black licorice,” he called back, and then he was gone.

Yes, Anthony J. Crowley was an unusual omega who had been dealt a terrible hand in life, and oh, how Anathema wished that she could help him find happiness…

* * *

The door of a posh flat in Mayfair slammed hard enough to rattle the artwork hung on the walls in the entrance hallway. Crowley growled to himself while locking and bolting the offending portal, before tossing his keys into a bowl on a table to the left. He let out a breathy sigh as he leaned back against the locked door and ran a long-fingered hand through his hair. His fingers came back slick with sweat. Anathema had been right to kick him out of the shop right away. It was coming on fast. Wouldn’t be long now. 

The omega began shedding his clothes, ripping them off piece by piece and dropping them unceremoniously wherever he was as he walked through the flat. Every few moments he ran his fingers through the leaves or petals of one of his many personal plants, hoping that their presence would help to ground him. It didn’t do much, but made him feel marginally less lonely. 

His leather jacket found the back of the sleek black sofa in his TV room. The light grey silk scarf landed on the kitchen island as Crowley made himself a whiskey with plenty of ice. His black Henley landed somewhere on the floor in the back hallway, while trousers, pants, and socks all hit the floor outside his bedroom door. Here the omega stopped and sighed. Here was where he would spend the majority of the next three-to-seven days.  _ Fuck _ did he hope it was closer to the former. 

Fully nude now, the omega made his way to the full-length mirror in the corner of his room and stared, considering himself. 

His long, lean body was already glistening with a sheen of sweat everywhere he looked. His flaming red hair was hanging heavy around his shoulders. His bloody traitorous cock was already beginning to make itself known, for fuck sake… Soon would come the slick, and the burning heat all over, and the agonizing, overpowering  _ need  _ for something he wouldn’t receive. 

He  _ hated  _ it. He hated it so much. Hated that he couldn’t control it, couldn’t rid himself of it, couldn’t satiate it. He hated that he could barely even take a hint of the edge off, that he would spend the next several days clawing at himself in anguish, unable to quash the pressing urgency all through his body. He hated that he was  _ different _ , that none of the many options humanity had come up with to deal with these instincts could work for him. 

He hated it all.

He hated it…

He hated…

He hated... _himself_. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While commiserating with Newt about how bad she feels for her friend, Anathema makes a decision to share the details of Crowley's condition with Newt's good friend (and alpha bachelor), Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter Day!
> 
> So, in the first chapter we met Crowley and got a vague sense that he has some kind of situation going on that is not exactly pleasant. In this chapter we learn about that situation while simultaneously meeting Aziraphale. They don't meet yet, but we have to get this bit out of the way before we move on to that. ^_~
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

“You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

Anathema looked up from her mug with a little start, having drifted off into a daydream and quite forgotten her company. She offered Newton and Aziraphale both a sheepish little smile. “Sorry, I was miles away there, wasn’t I?” she chuckled apologetically. 

Newt answered her smile with a sympathetic one of his own and reached across the table to lay his hand across hers with a little squeeze. They had only been dating for a little less than two months now, but anyone could see from the way they gazed at one another that they were both utterly besotted. 

“Don’t apologize,” the shy, bespectacled omega insisted. “He’s your best friend, and it’s only right that you’re worried about him. How long has it been now?”

Anathema heaved a heavy sigh and glared back down at her tea as she fiddled with the mug. “Today’s day five,” she said with a frown. “I was hoping it would be a shorter one, considering how soon it’s been since the last, but no luck I suppose.” She sneered at the hot liquid in her mug as though it was somehow personally responsible for Crowley’s predicament. “It seems as though it’s been getting worse lately. They’re coming sooner and sooner, with barely any respite, and they’re never short ones. His temper has been on a hair trigger, and I can hardly blame him. By the time it finally tapers off he looks so exhausted that it’s almost hard to believe he survived at all.” 

Newt nodded and squeezed her hand again. He may have offered words, but in their short time together so far he had learned that sometimes Anathema just needed to vent and know that someone was listening, so that’s what he did. 

Aziraphale, however, was blinking rapidly, looking back and forth between the two halves of the couple with confusion and curiosity. 

The three were taking tea in Aziraphale’s bookshop, a habit that he had encouraged quite happily as it gave him reason to flip the closed sign for an hour or so and avoid customers for a little while. Newton and the shop owner were close friends, having attended college together, and had fallen into something of a business relationship as well, so it was hardly a surprise when the love-struck omega had first brought his new lady friend to meet the owner of “A.Z. Fell & Co Books & Antiquities”. Aziraphale had approved of the lovely Anathema right from the start, and they had become quick friends, bonding over a love of sweets and books of prophecy. Aziraphale thought he had learned quite a bit about his friend’s beautiful mate these past few weeks. 

At this particular moment, however, Aziraphale felt as though he had missed something incredibly important and wasn’t entirely sure how to politely point out that he had no idea what Anathema and Newton were talking about. 

“Pardon my rudeness,” the bookish alpha eventually found himself saying with a slight clearing of his throat, “and I don’t mean to pry, but it sounds as though you have a friend in trouble?”

Anathema startled again, as though she had just remembered that Aziraphale was there. “Oh!” she exclaimed, and flushed a little. “Sorry, ‘Zira, it never occurred to me that you don’t know about Crowley.”

Aziraphale cocked his head to one side, the name sparking a memory of a prior conversation. “Co-owner of your nursery, yes?” he supplied. 

Anathema nodded, and seemed to be considering something carefully, the corners of her lips pulled down into a frown. “I don’t usually…” she began, and then paused, thinking again. “I mean, it’s not really my place to go around talking about… I only told Newt because, I mean, obviously I-”

Though his curiosity was practically killing him by this point, Aziraphale reached out to offer the poor girl a little pat on the shoulder and a smile. “Don’t worry about it, my dear,” he insisted. “I was just curious, but it’s obviously none of my business.”

That, strangely, only seemed to make Anathema consider even more thoroughly. She was staring at Aziraphale now, as though she could see through to the very heart of him. It was actually a little bit disconcerting and soon had Aziraphale chuckling nervously as he sat back in his seat and refocused on his own tea. 

“I think…” the female alpha said, narrowing her eyes and seeming to come to a decision. “I think I _will_ tell you.”

Aziraphale took a sip of his tea and looked back at her with what he hoped was nonchalant innocence. “Whatever you feel is best, my dear,” he said simply. 

Anathema nodded once, and now that she had made her decision, seemed more than ready to dive in. “Crowley and I have been best friends since we were little kids,” she began, “and I kind’ve unofficially adopted him when his parents passed while we were in high school. So I’ve seen him through it all, you see…” She paused for a moment, thoughtfully, and then pressed on. “He has a...condition. No doctors have really been able to explain it, and none of the ones he’s seen have ever come across such a thing anywhere else before. Their only explanation is some kind of extreme hormonal imbalance, although they’ve never been able to get any readings that would confirm that theory.”

Aziraphale was well and truly hooked on to the story, ignoring his tea in favor of leaning a little closer to Anathema. A ‘condition’, she said?

“It first started in school,” Anathema continued with a sigh. “The poor thing… He had his first heat, which of course is never fun, but then a few weeks later he had another one. And a few weeks after that, a third.”

Aziraphale blinked a few times, his mind trying to go back to the few ‘Health and Reproduction’ classes they’d been mandated during school. “That’s awfully often, isn’t it?”

Newton, as the only omega between them, spoke up at the question. “A normal cycle is closer to once every two-to-three months,” he reminded his friend. “There’s spontaneous heat, of course, but that usually only occurs because of a deep emotional connection that has been recently established.”

Anathema nodded along as Newton spoke. “And anywhere between three and seven days is the norm for the length of a heat, but Crowley’s sometimes go as long as ten to twelve days.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows nearly rose off his head. “My goodness, I can understand why that would exhaust him so,” he agreed. Then his brow furrowed. “But if his cycle is so unmanageable, why does he not simply take suppressants?”

That garnered a deep, exasperated sigh from Anathema and a look of sympathy from Newton. 

“He tried them, once, back in high school,” Anathema explained, “but it...went poorly. He had an extremely bad reaction.” Her face was transforming into a grimace as she spoke, remembering a painful and terrifying time in her past. “His body rejected them. He was as pale as a ghost, couldn’t breath, could barely seem to hear what the doctors were saying to him. Afterwards the physician said it was lucky he’d taken that first dose in his doctor’s office, or they may not have been able to help him fast enough.”

As a naturally empathetic person, Aziraphale was aghast. One of his hands had found its way to flutter over his own heart and his eyes were wide in response to Anathema’s clear distress. “My goodness, that sounds positively horrifying!” he gasped. “I’ve never heard of such a thing before!”

“Neither had the doctors,” Newt offered with a sigh before looking back to Anathema for clarification. “What was it they said again?”

“Some as-yet-undiscovered allergy,” the female alpha growled, clearly frustrated. “That’s all they could come up with. They kept Crowley in the hospital for a while and tested small amounts of several other suppressant options on him, but they all had similar reactions that would be lethal if allowed to run their course.”

“The poor dear…” Aziraphale said, partly to himself. He found himself genuinely upset for this man he had never actually met. As an alpha himself, he wasn’t sure how he would survive without his rut suppressants, even though his rut cycle was fairly standard. It was just such a difficult situation to go through without a partner to go through it with. 

“Well then…” the bookseller mused aloud. “It’s not ideal for everyone, and I’m sure it would get quite expensive with his cycle so spontaneous, but couldn’t he use the Alpha Escort services to ease the burden?” The omega alternative had never really been Aziraphale’s cup of tea, personally, but surely having a professional take care of you had to be better than suffering…

Anathema’s face, however, told him that this was one more thing that didn’t work for the man they were discussing. “That...that wouldn’t work either,” she told him with a particularly distraught sigh. “Crowley is...well...he’s repulsed by the scent of alphas.”

Despite a rather valiant effort not to react poorly, Aziraphale found his jaw hanging unattractively open as he searched for something to say. “Pardon?” was all he could come up with. 

Anathema shrugged. The half-smile she offered was almost apologetic. “Just another part of his condition that there’s no good explanation for,” she explained. “He’s gotten used to my scent over the years, us being so close, but by his own admission alphas smell disgusting to him, like his senses are actively working to repel him away from them. So when one tries to get close to him, even if it’s just harmful flirting, he tends to get...squirrely. Frustrated, angry, antagonistic… And it honestly terrifies me.” She released Newt’s fingers in order to clutch at her mug with both hands, squeezing it a little harder than was likely safe for the poor thing’s structure. “I worry that one of these days he’s going to end up in a fight with the _wrong_ alpha, you know? And that’s not even addressing the fact that he feels so...alone. He’d never admit it aloud to anyone, but I can see it. He feels like he’ll never find someone because on top of everything he-” Here her lips snapped shut, eyes a little wide, as though she’d been about to say something horrible. 

Newton had a calm look of sympathy on his face, an understanding and a sadness, but Aziraphale knew that his face was a question mark. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to push for more information than he’d already been allowed about a topic that was truly none of his business, but it was practically _killing_ him wondering what, after all that, was the bit that apparently was too horrid to say aloud. 

He didn’t want to ask, and in the end he didn’t have to. Anathema let out a deep, miserable sigh and all but whispered, “On top of everything else, the doctors say that Crowley is...he’ll...he’ll never have children.”

Aziraphale felt his heart break. He didn’t want to make assumptions - he didn’t even _know_ this man, after all - but he knew that omegas who couldn’t, for whatever reason, mate productively were often horribly depressed. Even if Crowley had never had any intention to bear children, surely it must feel as though a part of him was missing, broken…

Mentally, Aziraphale shook his head. No, no assumptions, he growled at himself. He had no idea how this man felt about his situation. But then again...if Anathema were correct about him feeling...alone…

“That is…” _Terrible_ , he wanted to say, but couldn’t seem to spit it out. 

Oh, what a horribly informative conversation _this_ had been. Aziraphale understood why this was information Anathema felt wasn’t hers to share, and he wondered why she had felt so strongly that she should share it with _him_ , of all people. But now that she had, he felt something strange stirring deep down in his belly. An unusual, unexpected surge of protectiveness, like he had to _do_ something…

Which, of course, was ridiculous. 

After all, he’d never even met the man. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale visits the nursery/shop owned by Anathema and Crowley, and subsequently gets his first glimpse of the omega in question. That glimpse, not to put too fine a point on it, nearly knocks the alpha on his arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting some great feedback on this story so far, so firstly, I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading and commenting! I absolutely adore hearing your thoughts, so please feel free to keep 'em coming!
> 
> Our boys aren't going to meet QUITE yet, which I'm sure is frustrating you all to no end, but I promise it's coming soon! In this chapter Aziraphale gets his first glimpse of Crowley, and let's just say that things start to heat up right from the get-go. XD
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Aziraphale was still thinking about Anathema’s friend nearly a week later while on his way to the very nursery the two ran together. In fact, the man’s plight had hardly left his mind since their conversation back at the bookshop. He didn’t know why he felt so... _affected_ by Crowley’s story and everything entailed within it, but it was as though he’d become inadvertently obsessed. He felt a little guilty about it, if he was being entirely honest. It wasn’t, after all, any of his damned business. And yet…

“Oh!” 

Without realizing it, Aziraphale had arrived at the nursery and was immediately quite taken with the beautiful design of the building. It was sitting on a double-lot that seemed to have been cleared for the very purpose of its construction, though Anathema hadn’t mentioned whether the building had been there before they’d started up their business. The front face of the building was a lovely-looking shop with well-tended flowering vines crawling up white trellises placed all over it. The large greenhouse could be spied around the side of the shop, extending back and to the right so that the whole building would look like an ‘L’ from above. It was difficult to see any floral details from the walkway, but huge swaths of green were visible through the greenhouse windows. 

‘ _A Touch of Eden’_ was written in a swirling script on the sign above the door. _Cute name_ , Aziraphale thought with a smile as he entered. 

Anathema was behind the cash counter near the door, just finishing up with a customer. When she spotted the newest arrival she lifted an arm in a surprised little wave that he returned with a grin. He shuffled aside to allow the customer she’d been working with to make her way out of the shop and made his way up to the counter to Anathema’s delighted voice. 

“‘Zira! What brings you here?” she asked, voice cheerful. “Shouldn’t you be tending the bookshop?”

Aziraphale gave her a warm smile while letting his gaze wander around _Eden_. “I’m taking a few days for inventory,” he explained, and hefted a brown paper bag up onto her countertop. “I was heading out for a spot of lunch when Newton asked if I would mind terribly bringing this to you. He was intending to bring it himself but got an emergency work call.”

Anathema raised an eyebrow that was immediately matched by one of Aziraphale’s before they both chuckled conspiratorially. It was rather difficult to picture Newton Pulsifer - shy, awkward, nervous, mousey - being relied upon to handle any kind of an emergency, but their laughter on his behalf was good-natured. Despite his refusal to use computers (they ‘hated’ him, he insisted) and his ability to go from zero to flustered in zero-point-six seconds, Newt was actually an incredible personal accountant for several large, well-paying companies. Aziraphale had been relying on him to keep his own finances in check since he’d first opened his shop. 

Anathema peeked in the bag Aziraphale had presented and immediately let out a little squeal of pleasure, her eyes bright and excited. “Awww, he remembered!” she exclaimed, and began pulling out several bags of assorted gummy candies. 

Aziraphale must have pulled a face because Anathema laughed. “I know, they aren’t exactly gourmet treats, but on our first date I mentioned that I used to comfort-binge on gummies when I was stressed in college. So it’s quite a sweet gesture, really.”

Aziraphale, a bit of a foodie himself, scrunched his nose up at the mass-produced sugar blobs, but he was smiling. “Indeed it is, my dear,” he assured her. “He is quite taken with you, you know.”

While the lady flushed and fawned over her chewy treats, the gentleman wandered slowly throughout the shop, taking it all in. There were a few potted plants and pre-made bouquets displayed in prominent places, but most of the shelves were filled with equipment, home-care kits and plant food and the like. A large wall to the far left was devoted to jars of herbs, carefully harvested and prepared by Anathema. There were little signs below each, explaining their uses, which were everything from culinary, to medicinal, to worryingly occult in nature. 

“Are customers allowed in the greenhouse portion?” Aziraphale asked conversationally when he’d assessed most of the shop proper. “I’ve been thinking about getting a few plants to spruce up the shop and wouldn’t mind a little browsing.”

As he was speaking a few customers strolled in, heading for the shop owner with purpose. “Yes, of course,” Anathema assured Aziraphale quickly and waved toward the double-doors on the back wall. “Just head on back. Crowley is in today if you need any assistance or have questions.” With that she turned her attention to the customers and Aziraphale made his way to the back. 

The moment he stepped through those double doors, the bookseller became overcome by the sheer variety of scents that wafted through the air to greet him. The swing-back of the doors nearly toppled him forward as he stopped to breathe deep, his eyes gone wide to take in the beauty before him. 

Aziraphale honestly knew next to nothing when it came to plant-life, but he appreciated it well enough, and he could tell without much scrutinization that this greenhouse was teeming with lush and vibrant wonders. He strolled on through the aisles with a huge grin on his face, examining rows of shrubs, saplings, hanging baskets, flowering bushes, and even several fruit-bearing plants, which thoroughly grabbed his attention. He saw hanging bunches of strawberries, potted tomato vines, and one lovely little tree that was producing some bite-sized variety of apple. 

It was all so beautiful, so clearly loved and cared for, so full and lush and wild and wonderful, that Aziraphale no longer found the name of the nursery cute as much as he thought it accurate. This truly was a little piece of Eden. 

He was running his fingers lovingly across the petals of a bed of pretty pink flowers when a soft grunt distracted him. He turned to the sound just in time to catch the sight of a long, lean body hefting a large bag of fertilizer against the base of a mid-sized orange tree. Aziraphale let out a sharp little gasp before he could stop himself, immediately following up on the sound by throwing himself behind a large fern so that he would not be seen. 

The reason that Aziraphale panicked and did not yet want to be noticed, is that the man several yards away, currently stretching his arms above his head so that his shirt rode up and revealed a strip of flat belly, was the most gorgeous creature Aziraphale had ever seen in his life. His long legs were _painted_ into a pair of tight black trousers that accented his backside perfectly. His top was a grey Henley - looser than the pants, but with the arms ripped off so that the lean, tight muscles of his arms and shoulders were visible. The man stretched a second time, off to one side this go around, revealing a sharp jut of hipbone peeking out above the skintight trousers. The lightly tanned skin of his face, neck, and arms was smudged with dirt and soil, with his long, delicate fingers in particular being quite filthy. 

Long, wavy red hair in a mesmerizing shade of red was pulled into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, with several strands escaping to become plastered instead to the sweat of his neck. His face was somehow both soft and sharp, and utterly bewitching, though his eyes were disappointingly hidden by a pair of dark black sunglasses. 

_That...that must be Crowley,_ Aziraphale thought as his pulse thundered away in his ears. _By the lord, I’ve never seen anyone so delicious…_

He barely had the thought finished when he was chastising himself for it, mentally. Yes, there was no arguing that the redheaded man was positively gorgeous. In fact, just looking at him made Aziraphale’s body flush hot with a desire that was so intense that he was shocked by himself. But there was obviously much more to this creature than his heavenly beauty. For instance, Crowley was the co-owner in charge of taking care of the plants, and in order to end up with such perfect specimens he surely had to be kind, caring, and patient. He must have miraculous focus, tons of attention to detail, and an incredible work ethic. Not to mention the strength that must be hidden in that body, the clever dexterity of those delicate-looking fingers, and-

Oh... _Oh!_ He’d rather drifted back in the wrong direction again, hadn’t he?

While Aziraphale was busy berating himself, Crowley had torn open the bag of fertilizer and slipped on a pair of work gloves to begin distributing it. Aziraphale, despite internally shrieking at himself the entire time, continued to watch through the leaves of his hiding place like a creepy stalker. He found his throat going dry as he admired the redhead, fixating on the way those trousers clung to his arse, the way the muscles in his arms tensed when he shifted, the way little drops of sweat were winding their way down that long, lovely, delicious-looking throat…

 _SHIT. FUCK!_ Aziraphale shook his head hard and a little whimper escaped him. _What the hell is wrong with you, you damned fool?_ he thought, furious at himself. He knew as well as anyone that there was nothing wrong with attraction, nothing wrong with _looking_ , but he was...he was _lusting_ , dammit! He was lusting and objectifying, and he couldn’t even blood well blame his alpha instincts, because there was too much olfactory noise between the two of them right now for Aziraphale to even be able to smell the gorgeous omega.

It was exactly the wrong avenue to let his mind fishtail into, because now he was sneaking closer, wondering what Crowley _did_ smell like. He imagined pressing his face to that glistening throat to breathe deep of what was surely a mouth-watering musk. He imagined turning his head to drag his own scent along Crowley’s jaw, letting him know exactly what the omega was doing to him. He imagined pressing his lips along hot flesh, running his tongue along quivering muscles, pushing his teeth into the soft skin around his omega’s pulse point and-

Wait.

 _His_ omega?

Aziraphale never did get close enough to catch a whiff of Crowley’s scent. Instead he made a choked sound as he tore himself from the vivid fantasy, before immediately slapping both hands over his mouth and dropping to the ground behind a large fern. 

He thought he heard Crowley say something, perhaps asking whether anyone was there, but rather than own up to the past few extremely unacceptable minutes, Aziraphale practically dug trenches in the greenhouse’s packed dirt floor as he made an incredibly hasty escape.

* * *

Newton Pulsifer was a very considerate friend and a very polite person overall and, as such, never invited himself over to the bookshop for tea without first contacting Aziraphale to ensure he was welcome. He was always welcome, of course, but the fact remained that Newton simply did not show up unannounced, especially when he knew that Aziraphale was busy with some important task, such as doing inventory. 

It made Aziraphale twitch and cringe, therefore, when several sharp raps came upon the bookshop’s door the next day, followed by two voices:

One, Anathema’s, yelling, “We know you’re in there, ‘Zira!”

The other, Newton’s, calling out much more gently, “Best let her in, mate.”

Aziraphale himself murmured an uncomfortable, “We are most certainly closed,” as he picked his way toward the door with a bad feeling settling in his stomach. 

Newt was there with an apologetic look when the door opened, but Anathema pushed through and rounded on the bookseller immediately, slamming the door behind them. “I want an explanation,” she demanded, lips pursed and arms crossed. 

Aziraphale decided, quite quickly, to go for bewildered ignorance. “I’m certain that I do not know to what you are referencing, my dear.” Okay...even for _him_ that had been a bit wordy.

Anathema’s eyes narrowed. A flash of her scent reached Aziraphale’s nostrils and he realized that she was _angry_ with him. And though he was fairly certain he did, in fact, know what she was referring to, he couldn’t fathom why what had happened at _Eden_ could have possibly angered her so. It wasn’t as though she could have any idea as to the actual thoughts that had been running through his head, after all…

“Now, Anathema,” he began, defensive, “I’m sure if we just-”

But the female alpha had taken several intent steps forward, crowding Aziraphale up against a bookshelf while, behind her, Newton’s eyes widened in alarm. A low growl ripped from Anathema’s throat, and while he was certain he could dispatch her if absolutely necessary, Aziraphale couldn’t deny that the delicate-looking woman was extremely fierce and frightening in this moment. “You practically _sprinted_ out of the shop yesterday,” she snarled, her tone accusatory. “You were red and sweating, and you looked like you were either going to throw up or blow your goddamn load-”

Aziraphale made a strangled sound in response to those words (which were far closer to the truth than he would have liked) and sputtered indignantly.

“-and when I asked Crowley what had happened he said he didn’t know. He said he heard a noise and saw a couple of the bushes moving, and then heard someone take off like their life depended on it.” She took another step forward, effectively shoving her nose into Aziraphale’s face as a deep rumbling began to work its way up from her chest. “He’s got it in his head now that some pervert was wanking off behind the ferns, so I’ll ask one more time-” She took a breath and let loose a truly alarming glare. “-for an _explanation_.”

If Aziraphale had been within view of a mirror he wouldn’t have been surprised to see that he had gone white as a ghost. He’d hardly been expecting to get the third degree after his rather hasty flight from the nursery and was finding himself rapidly devolving into a panicked state as he struggled to come up with a believable-sounding story. Strangely, he also found that one of his most pressing concerns was whether or not Anathema had told Crowley who it was that had been back there in the greenhouse with him…

After several very long, very awkward moments Aziraphale heaved a defeated sigh and allowed himself to collapse back against the bookshelf behind him. His gaze dropped down to his own hands where he was fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat. “I...I promise you it wasn’t like that at all, my dear,” he murmured, unable to find the conviction required to add some volume to his voice. “I just...I was enjoying how beautiful everything in the greenhouse was, and I happened to see Crowley doing some work, and he…” He had to pause to force himself to swallow. His throat felt terribly dry. “He’s so bloody _gorgeous!_ ” he exclaimed, totally beside himself. “He was working and stretching, and those damned legs, and lord that hair! And my mind ran away with me and I was flustered and embarrassed, so I hid! But _nothing like that happened,_ I swear! I just...I couldn’t deal with the way my body was reacting, it was absolutely mortifying, so I _ran_ and that-that’s all!”

He huffed, and he puffed, and he shook his head furiously while biting back the urge to get angry if only to feel something that _wasn’t_ humiliation. He’d stopped his confession just short of admitting that he’d chivalrously held off on the ‘wanking’ bit until he’d gotten home to the safety of the flat above his shop. That bit was going to be taken to his grave.

Anathema was staring and blinking. Newton’s eyes were wide and he kept glancing back and forth between his friend and his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Anathema finally said. “Was that all?”

Somehow her blunt, emotionless reaction was not the relief that it should have been. Rather than double-down on his own defence Aziraphale found himself groaning and curling in upon himself. “Was that _all_ ?” he cried in dismay. “I nearly had a bloody nervous breakdown and you’re asking me if that was _all_?!” His face and neck were flushed, and he was suddenly quite certain that his head was going to spontaneously combust.

Anathema, however, only took a few steps back to give the man some space and gave him a raw, amused smile. “Oh for goodness sake, ‘Zira,” she scoffed. “I got upset because I thought you’d done something genuinely disgusting, but it sounds to me like you’re getting yourself all worked up over a crush.”

If blushing violently could somehow be fatal, Aziraphale thought it likely Newton would be organizing his funeral any moment. “A-a crush?!” he squeaked, though he wasn’t entirely sure why the word bothered him so much. 

Anathema was outright chuckling now, a pleased sparkle in her eye. “Zira, hon, do you think that you’re the first alpha to get so worked up over Crowley?” she posited with a grin. “The idiot complains about being hit on while simultaneously dressing like he’s trying to cut off all blood flow through his body.” 

Multiple emotions flittered through Aziraphale at once, not the least of which was an odd desire to indignantly defend the redhead’s right to dress however he damn-well pleased. “Well, I mean- Yes, I’m sure he- That is to say-” He stammered aimlessly while trying to get a proper grip on his thought process. Foolishly, his instinct continued to be to verbally berate himself. “That doesn’t mean that it’s okay for me to...to objectify him!”

To both Aziraphale and Anathema’s surprise, Newt burst into near-manic laughter. They turned together to stare at the omega while he clutched at his stomach with one hand and wiped tears from beneath his glasses with the other. The longer he laughed, the more insulted Aziraphale felt. 

“What on Earth is so funny, Newton?” the alpha demanded. 

It took Newt a few more moments and several deep breaths to gain control of himself, but eventually he was able to force himself back upright with a positively gleeful grin on his face. “Aziraphale,” he practically choked out, “I may not be able to see the thoughts that go through your head, but I know you pretty damn well, and the very _thought_ of you objectifying someone is quite possibly the most hysterical thing I’ve ever heard.”

Aziraphale gaped, mouth opening and closing several times, uncertain how to possibly respond to that without giving his friends graphic descriptions of the things he’d been thinking while laying in his bed the previous night with his hand down his-

“Besides,” Anathema broke into his thought process with a playful smirk, “ _thinking_ isn’t necessarily _objectifying_ , Aziraphale. You didn’t interact with him at all, and you’re telling us that you didn’t do anything...unseemly while you were hiding-”

Aziraphale’s face felt like it was literally aflame.

“-so it seems to be that you did nothing wrong except for the fleeing bit. You’re allowed to be attracted to someone, you know, right?”

There was a long moment of silence, during which gears cranked and whirred in Aziraphale’s head and his two friends watched him carefully and with great interest. 

“Would you like to meet him?”

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open wide and landed on Anathema with shock. She had settled him with a perfectly calm, serious, and curious look. “Pardon?” he squeaked, and instantly cringed at his voice’s cruel betrayal. It shouldn’t have been a shocking question, but replaying the words in his mind was making shivers of anticipation go up and down his spine. _Meet Crowley?_ Properly meet that breathtakingly gorgeous creature face-to-face? His inner alpha growled with pleasure thinking about it, but his more logical, self-deprecating mind whimpered with anxiety. 

_I’m not fit or conventionally attractive… I’m old fashioned, fussy, and most would describe me as quite dull and boring… What would such a gorgeous man like him ever see in a dowdy bookworm like me?_

While Aziraphale was busy thoroughly convincing himself that such a meeting would be ultimately pointless, Anathema had begun speaking again, softly and with a gentle, sisterly tone. 

“We have a garden show this weekend,” she was saying, undeterred by her friend’s internal debate. “You could drop by our display. Maybe ask Crowley’s advice on those plants for the shop that you mentioned before.” At this she lifted an eyebrow and smirked again.

_Well, I mean...perhaps…_

With Anathema and Newt watching him carefully, Aziraphale began a slow pace around his bookshop, wringing his hands as he went. He had to admit that it was a reasonable suggestion. It would be a friendly meeting on a sunny day, surrounded by lovely plants, and he would be able to safely bask in the presence of the beautiful redhead while safe behind a barrier of genuine customer-style questions…

But he was also rapidly coming up with a mental list of reasons why the meeting was a terrible idea, and it was one of the items on this list that made it to his lips as he rounded back on Anathema. “But what would be the point, my dear? You said yourself that he is repulsed by alphas.”

To that Anathema lifted a hand and pointed at herself. “His best friend, an alpha, remember?” she countered. “I said alphas smell bad to him, not that he automatically hates them. He is perfectly capable of maintaining relationships with alphas if he chooses and both parties put forth the required effort.” 

Aziraphale thought about that with a soft frown and a furrowed brow. His internal alpha was practically howling at him, screaming at him to give in and go for it, to take a risk for once in his damned life. 

The determining factor, however, came from Newton, who chuckled from where he was leaning against the wall and said, “You may as well just give in now, mate. When she gets her mind set on an idea there’s no talking her out of it.”

Anathema grinned, clearly taking her boyfriend’s words as a compliment.

Aziraphale considered them both carefully before letting his gaze settle on the female alpha. “I must admit, I am feeling something like whiplash at the moment. You came in here set to disembowel me because you thought I’d done something unseemly, and now you seem positively determined to have me meet Crowley and, what...attempt to court him?” Saying the words aloud had the unintended side-effect of making Aziraphale’s heart race in excitement. 

Anathema’s smile faltered just a bit. Slowly and deliberately she stalked in a wide circle around Aziraphale, trailing her fingers along tables and bookshelves as she went. “I’ll admit that I came in here pretty heated, but that was because I needed to be absolutely certain that, after that scene at the nursery, you weren’t secretly a disgusting pervert.”

Aziraphale huffed; despite the scene in question he couldn’t help feeling a bit insulted that the other alpha had ever seriously considered such a possibility. 

“Now that that issue is out of the question,” Anathema continued, “I’m reverting to my initial gut feeling, the one that told me to explain Crowley’s situation to you.” She paused, thought for a moment, and then continued circling as she spoke. “You are sweet, Aziraphale. You’re a gentleman. You’re exactly the kind of alpha Crowley needs in his life...someone who would respect him and treat him how he deserves to be treated.” She stopped in front of Newt, smiled at her beau, and then turned to offer Aziraphale an indulgent smile. “I thought maybe you might want to give that a try… Oh, and for the record, he _does_ prefer men,” she added with a wink.

Oh… Well, that was...encouraging, at least.

Still…

_What would someone like him want with someone like me?_

“Just come to the garden show,” Newt insisted, throwing his arm around his alpha’s shoulders. “What do you have to lose? Worst case scenario you buy some plants and part ways.”

Well...when it was put that way…

Aziraphale sighed, rather more dramatically than was probably necessary. “I- I _suppose_.”

Anathema clapped her hands together, grinning a bit maniacally. “Perfect! Newt will pick you up so you know where to go. See you on Sunday!” And without further ado she snatched up Newt’s hand and pulled him back out of the shop, practically radiating an air of victory. Aziraphale watched them go with his lower lip clamped firmly between his teeth.

_Sunday...yes. I’ll be there._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Anathema work the garden show, and among the swaths of frustratingly annoying customers, Crowley sets his sights on a a beautiful blond whose eyes are as kind as the clear blue sky. Just like that, he's GONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesssssss, finally our boys are going to meet! Are you excited? I know that I'm excited! I've been getting so much lovely feedback from this fic, so I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks about the fated meeting at the garden show. Crowley's got it baaaaaaaad, you guys! <3
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny Sunday afternoon, and Crowley was grumbling under his breath as his most recent customer stalked off without a single purchase. 

Anathema gave her friend and business partner a sidelong glance and couldn’t hold back the chuckle that erupted from her at the look on his face. 

Crowley didn’t _hate_ customers, in a general sense. He definitely vastly preferred the company of his plants, but broadly speaking he didn’t have a specific dislike of the everyday shopper. He did, however, have a kind of sixth sense for time-wasters, and these he had absolutely no patience for. This most recent ‘customer’ had monopolized his time for nearly half-a-bloody-hour, asking mundane questions that anyone who had ever _seen_ a plant should be able to figure out for themselves. And after all that the air-headed woman had wandered off empty-handed, seeming somehow even more bereft of common logic than she’d been when she’d arrived. 

“I swear to Satan,” the redheaded omega growled under his breath, “some of these people are fucking braindead. What planet do you have to come from to believe that incandescent light bulbs are a fine replacement for sunlight?”

Anathema tried and failed to hold back a burst of laughter, nearly dropping the jars of herbs she’d been unboxing. “She did _not_ say that, did she?”

“She did!” Crowley exclaimed, and despite his grouchiness he found Anathema’s laughter quite contagious. “It took every drop of willpower I’ve ever possessed not to ask her if she’d been huffing gas fumes!”

They both laughed uproariously for several lovely minutes, during which they thankfully were not approached by any more common logic lepers. The park in which the garden show was being held was warm and bright with the midsummer sun, but groups of fluffy white clouds had been drifting by, keeping away the worst of the heat. It was rather the perfect day for such an event, and the owners of _A Touch of Eden_ had picked up several new bookings for weddings and other large celebrations, as well as a contract to re-do the landscaping for a smaller park that was being excavated about half an hour outside the city. 

Idiot time-wasters aside, it hadn’t been a bad morning, and it was shaping up to be a calm and pleasant afternoon. Crowley stretched up toward the sky, and snickered in the direction of the woman who had just left _Eden’s_ stand as she continued to wander around looking utterly bewildered. 

That was when he saw _him_.

Crowley caught sight of Anathema’s new beau browsing a few stalls down the way as he headed in their direction and had just opened his mouth to let his best friend know, when his gaze slid to the man Newt was walking with. Before the omega knew what was happening the words were getting caught in his throat, steadfastly refusing to come out. 

The man with Newt was unusual, to say the least. The way he was dressed was far too _proper_ for an event such as this, and he was sporting several layers despite the heat. Perfectly pressed dress trousers and a long-sleeved shirt in matching shades of tan, paired with a waistcoat in baby blue with mother-of-pearl buttons and a bow tie - a bloody _bow tie_ \- in a tartan print of beiges, browns, and blues. It was the most prim, old-fashioned style Crowley could imagine existing in the twenty-first century, making the man look as though he’d stepped out of the past. 

He was also the most heartbreakingly handsome man Crowley had ever set eyes on. 

His skin - what little of it was showing - was pale and smooth, like porcelain. A veritable cloud of fluffy blond curls - so pale they could have almost been called white - sat atop his head, looking as soft as feathers. As he spoke to Newt he had a soft, sweet, genuine smile, and even from this distance Crowley could see that his kind eyes were a brilliant, beautiful shade of blue that put every last one of his hard-grown flowers to shame. 

“Ana?” It had taken some effort to manage the relocation of his voice, which was embarrassingly hoarse when he finally spoke. “Do you know who that is with Newt?”

If Crowley had been mentally capable of sparing half a second for even the most cursory glance in Anathema’s direction, he would have seen her look up into the crowd, then take in the mortifying way her friend was currently ogling, before an incredibly pleased smirk spread across her face. “Oh, yes,” she said carefully, refusing to give too much away. “That’s Aziraphale. He and Newt went to college together. Why do you ask?”

The question was enough to trigger a hot flush to rise up the back of Crowley’s neck to the tips of his ears, but it wasn’t enough to drag his attention away from the captivating blond slowly working toward them. “He, uh-” he murmured distractedly, “-he dresses kinda funny, doesn’t he?”

It was certainly a valiant attempt at nonchalance, but Anathema wasn’t fooled for even a second. “Hmm, yes, very proper isn’t he?” she prodded gently. “Quite a lovely person. A true gentleman…” She let her words trail away and grinned when Crowley didn’t even seem to notice. 

The omega’s eyes were glued to that bright, happy, handsome face. He felt rather like the ground had fallen out from under him as he realized that the beautiful blond - _Aziraphale…_ he thought, dreamily - was going to accompany Newt right to _Eden_ ’s booth. He was suddenly extremely grateful for his dark sunglasses, because before he could manage to force the mental calculations that would allow him to regain his bloody faculties, he was _there_...standing right in front of him with a soft, shy smile on his face. 

Newton shuffled around the booth until he could sneak behind it and offer Anathema a quick peck on the cheek. She returned his affection with a grin and a wink before turning back to the two men staring at each other from either side of a wall of gardenias. “Crowley,” she said slowly, as though anticipating the current snail-like pace of his brain. “This is Newt’s friend, Aziraphale. Aziraphale, this is my best friend and business partner, Crowley.”

Aziraphale immediately stuck out his hand. Crowley - running entirely on autopilot, for which he was extraordinarily grateful - accepted it and had to bite back a sigh at the soft press of flesh. He found himself, ridiculously, fantasizing about Aziraphale pulling his hand closer in order to press his lips to the back of it. After a short moment, however, the handshake was over, and the omega was left feeling bereft, his hand buzzing from the leftover electricity of the touch. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Aziraphale said, a little breathlessly. 

Oh lord...his voice was as angelic as his appearance. Crowley felt his knees shaking beneath him and mentally screamed at his body to get itself under control. “Uh, yeah,” he barely managed to cough out. “Nice- Nice t’meet ya.”

_Fucking poetry, that. Jesus Christ, Anthony, what the fuck has gotten into you?_

Thankfully the blond’s smile actually seemed to grow brighter, nearly blinding Crowley. Those blue eyes fluttered flirtatiously, and _fuck almighty..._ didn’t _that_ do all kinds of things to Crowley’s heart?

“Newt and I are going to go grab a bite,” Anathema said somewhere to Crowley’s left. “Do you mind watching the stall by yourself for a little while?”

Crowley barely computed whatever his friend had said. His gaze was stubbornly stuck to Aziraphale, who had sidled up to a potted rose bush and was delicately tracing the petals of one bloom with the soft tips of his fingers. Crowley was captivated by the touch, ludicrously jealous of the flower. His throat felt like sand. “Mmm-hmm, sure, yup,” he murmured without having any idea what the question had actually been. 

Anathema and Newt snickered to themselves and wandered off wearing twin grins of conspiratorial amusement. 

Aziraphale had moved over to a display of hanging strawberry plants, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the ripe fruit. The sincere sweetness of his smile had Crowley’s chest and stomach twisting in knots. 

_Fuck, he’s handsome… Look at that smile, those eyes, those-_ He nearly choked when Aziraphale lifted a hand to gently stroke the curve of a particularly large berry. _Fuck, those hands…_ _I bet he’s stronger than he looks. Bet he could hold me down easily if he wanted. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have those fingers fisting in my hair, guiding my head while I-_

He barely managed to snap off that thought with a sharp pinch to his thigh as his body began to react in ways that he’d really rather prefer it didn’t while he was in public. Several deep breaths later, plus making a fist so tight that it carved little metaluna shapes in the palm of his hand, and he thought he was together enough to avoid any sudden embarrassing movement below the waist. 

“These are all so terribly lovely, my dear.”

Crowley was almost entirely certain that his heart had taken up residence in his throat. Aziraphale was smiling at him from over the top of a large potted fern, and he was _praising his plants_. 

“Ngk-” Crowley babbled, fighting for his lips to obey him. _Get it the fuck together!_ “I- er- y-you think so?” _Fuck, you are a goddamned idiot._

Aziraphale’s grin widened. The sun came out from behind the clouds for a moment, making his cherubic face almost seem to glow. He stepped out from behind the fern and causally made his way back over to stand in front of Crowley again. “Oh yes,” he said with a breathy sigh that had Crowley fighting back a whimper. “It is wonderfully clear how much love and care you put into them, my dear. I understand that you handle the entire nursery yourself?”

 _Anathema has told him things about me! Shit! What does he know? Why don’t_ I _know anything?!_ “Uh, yeah, basically,” he forced out in what he thought was a relatively steady voice. “Ana does the storefront and I do the gardening.” 

Aziraphale made a soft humming sound of approval at that. Crowley’s inner omega purred at the sound, prompting him to bite the inside of his mouth _hard_. He didn’t even know for sure that the other man was an alpha - with all these flowers between them he couldn’t seem to catch a hint of his scent - but his body was betraying him at an exponential rate, urging him to find a way to please the man further, earn more of his lovely praise. 

As it turned out, he didn’t have to do anything. Aziraphale’s voice floated to him like a particularly pleasant dream. “Well you obviously take the job very seriously. These are by far the healthiest and most beautiful specimens I have ever had the pleasure of seeing in person.”

 _Pleasure!_ Crowley’s stupid omega brain squeaked. Aloud he finally managed to pull off a convincingly aloof response. “Well, not all that seriously. When you love what you do it’s easy to do a decent job.” _…..fuck, that sounded so lame._

Oh, but the smile Aziraphale rewarded him with was so soft and sweet and...fuck, was that _pride_? “Oh, I absolutely understand, my dear,” he gushed. “I actually run a shop myself, you see, so I agree completely about loving what you do.”

 _We have something in common!_ the little voice in Crowley’s head shouted and screamed like a lunatic. “Oh?” the voice from his throat said at a perfectly acceptable volume. “What kind of shop?”

A soft pink hue rose to Aziraphale’s cheeks and nose, a development that Crowley found painfully endearing. “Oh, it’s, er-” The blond almost seemed nervous, suddenly. His eyes cast downward as though he wasn’t sure how to go about answering the question. Was he...embarrassed? “It’s a, um...it’s a bookshop.”

Despite the man’s strange reluctance to admit this particular detail of his life, Crowley was delighted by the reveal. It just seemed to so perfectly fit the image of the man that was standing before him. A perfect, proper gentleman… He could picture it perfectly: Aziraphale surrounded by shelf upon shelf of old, dusty books, probably plucking them down and reading them all throughout the work day because he could hardly keep his hands away from them. 

“Really?” the omega asked, being extra careful to ensure his voice portrayed the proper amount of genuine glee. “Any particular kinds of books?” _Tell me more tell me everything tell me all about your beautiful self-_

Aziraphale glanced up in something like surprise, his head angled in such a way that he was looking up at Crowley from beneath his eyelashes. It was an incredibly sexy pose, which was accentuated by the fact that a cautious smile was spreading across his lips in the face of the omega’s apparent enthusiasm. “Oh, a bit of everything, I suppose,” he said, guardedly, “but I specialize in old, rare, and hard-to-find volumes. Part of the business is restorations. That’s my true passion, honestly: giving careful attention to and healing those tomes that have forgotten how precious they truly are.”

It was an unusual way to speak about books, but the tone of voice he used, the way he held Crowley’s gaze in what almost seemed like a heated manner… The redhead found his pulse fluttering even faster than it had before as he considered the fact that Aziraphale may not have been _just_ talking about books. And once that thought entered his head, the resulting litany came unbidden, his inner omega on its knees, outright begging…

_Restore me, tell me how precious I am, smother me in your love, your care, your passion, your loving attention, break me down and rebuild me anew, lay your healing hands on me, on every inch of me, on every fault and break and splinter, show me what it’s like to be healed by an angel, show me-_

“That sounds like delicate work,” he managed, though his tongue felt like lead.

“Oh, quite,” Aziraphale agreed with a bit of a smirk. “It is _very_ delicate work, especially when the tome in question has been treated poorly in its past. I’ve spent days and days on a single book, working with each individual page, pouring over every detail, slowly and steadily, careful to keep each touch precise to ensure the poor thing doesn’t fall apart.”

Crowley swallowed hard, mentally begging his body to behave itself even as his mind was a running commentary of-

 _Keep_ me _for days and days, pour over me, over every molecule, work me slow and steady and hold me together, let your perfect, precise touches keep me from falling apart until the moment you want me to-_

“I suppose it’s really not all that dissimilar to gardening,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully, surprising Crowley out of his inner monologuing. “Surely it must take great care and attention to coax certain plants out to their full potential?”

Crowley stared and blinked back at the blond. His blue eyes were shining, playful and somehow a bit saucy along with that twitch of a smile. His right hand had wandered up to tenderly caress a large, lush leaf of one of the plants nearest him. 

Crowley was _extremely_ glad for his sunglasses, which were surely hiding some extraordinarily telling pupil dilation. _Is...is he doing this on purpose? Can’t be, right? I’ve got to be imagining it. Just so beautiful, is all. Hard to keep myself in order. But he can’t be doing it on purpose. Wouldn’t make sense. What would an angel like him want with a loser like me?_

He desperately needed a change of subject, something safe and simple that would allow him the chance to calm down and _think_.

“Soooo, if you’re a bookseller, what brings you to the garden show today?” _Yes. Yes, that will do nicely._

Aziraphale’s response, however, was paired with a raised eyebrow. “Can a lover of literature not also appreciate the beauty of nature?”

Crowley’s face flared with heat at the same time his omega howled with frustrated embarrassment. “O-of course, no- That’s- That’s not what I mean, I-”

Aziraphale burst into laughter, but it was thankfully not unkind. It was a terribly pleasant laugh, a heavenly choir in Crowley’s head. He wanted to hear it again and again and again and- “I’m just tormenting you, my dear,” the blond chuckled. “I actually do have a specific reason to be here, as it stands. You see, I was considering that some plants might help spruce up the bookshop a bit.” He paused to flash Crowley a truly winning smile - _Oh fuck me...please, lord…_ \- and fluttered his eyelashes. “I was hoping that perhaps you might help me in picking out a few viable options?”

Crowley’s omega _screeched_ at him. _Yes! Yes! Let me help you, let me serve you, let me prove my worth, let me please you-_

“O-of course!” he breathed, grateful to be given a task that he could focus on so that he hopefully wouldn’t continue to make a fool of himself. He discreetly gave himself a sharp pinch on his forearm and threw himself into a casual lean against the counter of _Eden_ ’s booth. “Well, firstly, did you have anything specific in mind?”

Aziraphale’s gaze moved slowly over the options that were currently on display at the booth, seeming to think about the question. “Oh, nothing _specific_ , I think,” he admitted after a moment. “Perhaps something with a bit of color to brighten things up, but I suppose the more important matter is that they be easy to take care of.” He looked up again, a self-deprecating little smile on his lips. “I am entirely lacking in green thumbs, you see, and I’d rather not inadvertently murder the poor things, especially after you’ve taken such good care of them.”

Crowley bit his lip. To the outside observer it may have seemed that he was simply thinking about Aziraphale’s stipulations, but in reality he’d had to snap onto the flesh of his lip in order to keep himself saying something incredibly telling. The words _‘I don’t think you could ever do anything wrong, angel_ ’ had immediately come to mind, and he had very nearly spewed them aloud without thinking. Thankfully what he did eventually say was a much more reasonable, “I’m sure we can figure a few things out. What kind of light do you get in the shop?”

In the face of this question Aziraphale’s smile faltered into a confused little frown (which, truly, was unfairly adorable). “What... _kind_ of light?” he asked slowly. 

Fuck...Crowley gnawed on his lip again and worried that it would be bleeding by the end of the conversation. “Yeah, you know, like...do you get most of your light in the morning or evening? Is it direct sunlight or filtered through, say, tinted windows? That kind of thing.”

“Oh! Oh yes, that makes sense,” Aziraphale laughed at himself, a little red in the cheeks. “I suppose, if I think about it, the most direct light is probably in the evening, right at the front of the shop, but probably only for about four hours or so. There’s a skylight in the center of the ceiling, but it’s rather high up and only a few feet wide so the direct light there would last even less time.”

While the angelic creature before him thought and spoke and added a few more small considerations, Crowley was plotting. He already had a few ideas of what might suit the bookshop if they were to Aziraphale’s liking, but there were two problems. The first was that none of the plant options he had in mind were currently sitting here at the garden show booth, so he didn’t have anything physically present to show his painfully handsome customer. The second was that he desperately didn’t want their conversation to be over. He wanted to drag out their time together, learn more, talk more, work out the best ways to trigger that truly incandescent smile. 

So a thought began to form. Crowley lifted a finger to his lip, tapping at it and pretending to think hard about the possibilities. “Hmmm...well I assume you would want something aesthetically pleasing,” he said, carefully canting his head to the side as he spoke. “Something that will match the style of the shop?”

Aziraphale’s soft hum of agreement had Crowley’s omega tittering with pleasure and excitement. 

“Well, okay, so hear me out then,” Crowley continued, silently praying to get the wording correct. “What if I were to round up a few options and pop by your shop with them so that we can place them around and see what you like the best?”

The flash of surprise on Aziraphale’s face was hard to translate. Crowley’s fingernails dug into his thigh as he fretted internally, wondering if perhaps he’d overstepped. He had to fight not to whine aloud, because his omega was suddenly in a deep panic, wanting to reverse at high-speed. 

But then Aziraphale began to smile again, and this one almost looked...sly. “My dear, that seems like an awful lot of extra work on your behalf,” he pointed out. Then, with an obvious hint of teasing in the question, he asked, “Surely this isn’t a service that you provide to all of your customers?”

So here was an important moment. How did Crowley respond? It was clear what type of question this _really_ was, but did the omega have the courage to put himself out there, to make a very clear and obvious _move_? 

One voice in his head said, _He’s handsome and intelligent and sweet and well-spoken...what the hell could he ever want with someone like you?_

But at the same time his inner omega was running in hyperactive circles and practically screaming at him, _Do it! Say it! Say it and put the ball in his court! Do it, do it, do it!!!_

Crowley forced a smile on his face and hoped that it looked as clever and flirtations and smooth as he thought it did. “Nah,” he answered in a playful tone. “This is a brand new service that I only offer to customers whose smiles set me on fire.”

_Holy shit, shit shit shit, you actually said it, fuck, that was way too fucking much you stupid fucking-_

Aziraphale’s eyes widened just a bit, his lovely pink lips parted in surprise, and a sweet little flush rose to the tips of his ears, just before he broke into a positively heart-stopping grin. “Oh, is that so, my dear?”

Despite how bold he’d been to make the statement in the first place, Aziraphale’s reaction to it made Crowley shiver all over. “Y-yep,” he stammered, popping the ‘p’ anxiously. “S-sure is.” _So what do you say, angel? Your move._

The look in Aziraphale’s eyes was liquid heat, making Crowley’s insides melt. “Well, my dear,” he said with a voice like molten honey, “I believe that is a service I would very much like to take advantage of.”

Did he think his insides were melting? Nah, they were on fire. Completely immolated. 

Crowley wasn’t sure whether to pump a fist in victory or run and hide as it became strangely difficult to breath properly. “O-okay then,” he forced himself to say. “Uh...any particular day or time best for you?”

_I’ll come right now, just say the word. Gather me up, drag me home with you by my hair, claim me there and never let me leave-_

While the omega had a complete system breakdown, Aziraphale reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handsome tan leather wallet that looked as immaculate as the rest of him. From within he pulled a white business card, before pushing the wallet back into its place. Crowley automatically reached for the card, but Aziraphale pulled it back toward himself and fluttered his eyelashes. “Might you have a pen, my dear?”

Crowley nearly tripped over himself in his desperation to dive beneath the booth’s counter and scramble for some kind of - _any kind of_ \- writing utensil. In the back of his mind he was mortified by his own actions, but it was though all of the omega instincts he so often cursed were kicking in at once, and honestly, he had never been so longingly attracted to anyone before. He practically destroyed the underside of the booth before finally locating a pen on top of their appointment books and subsequently smashing his head on the counter as he tried to leap back up. After a string of hissed profanities that followed him back up above the counter he thrust his hand toward Aziraphale and thanked any gods that may be listening that the blond-haired angel was still smiling. 

Crowley watched, heart firmly lodged in his throat, as Aziraphale took the pen and wrote something on the back of the business card before finally handing both of them back to the redhead. He examined both sides of the card with something like awe. The printed side featured an illustration of a fancy old book, accompanied by the words, “A.Z. Fell & Co” along with an address and a phone number, all printed in gold. On the back of the card, in beautiful, immaculately neat handwriting, was a second phone number; one that was unmistakably a mobile number. 

“That’s my private number,” Aziraphale explained with a heated look in his eyes. “Just give me a call or send a message whenever you think you can step away from your other work.”

 _He gave you his number! He gave you his_ private _number! Say something! Say something flirty, something clever, something smooth and confident!_

“O-okay then.”

_Fucking brilliant._

Those blue eyes sparkled. With a flirty smile on his lips Aziraphale reached up to fiddle with his already-perfectly-laid bow tie. “Well, Crowley, I suppose I shall be going for now.” 

The announcement made Crowley’s heart sink, though he obviously knew the other man would have to leave eventually. “A-alright,” he made himself say while forcing what he hoped was a charming smile. He held up the business card and flicked it with his forefinger, very nearly dropping it in the process. “I’ll, um...I’ll give you a call then, when I’ve got everything together.” Was he sounding as stupid as he felt like he was sounding?

Aziraphale’s pleased nod sent the question skittering out of the omega’s head. Nothing else mattered in the presence of this angel’s approval.

“Well then. I’ll be waiting to hear from you, my dear.”

“Nng...yup.”

Then Aziraphale was walking away. Crowley wanted to say something, wanted to call out and make him smile again so that he could bask in that radiance a little while longer, but he couldn’t think of a goddamn thing. So he simply stared instead, admiring the blond’s beauty, focusing on controlling the ridiculous hammering of his heart and wondering what had gotten into him to flirt like that when he didn’t even know whether the man was an alpha or-

And so he was watching, eyes wide, when Aziraphale tossed a cheeky glance over his shoulder at the omega before finally disappearing around a corner stand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale each prepare in their own ways for their second meeting...and it goes better than either of them could have hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I very nearly forgot to make this update, you guys! The holiday season is catching up to me, evidently. lol But here we are! Our boys get together for a second time, and adorable-ness ensues. THEY'RE SO CUTE YOU GUYS! <3 <3 <3
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Aziraphale woke on Monday morning in an uncharacteristically amazing mood. That wasn’t to say that he was normally a grouch on Monday mornings, but mornings in general were a rather lackadaisical time for him on a good day. On this particular morning, however, he awoke feeling warm, fuzzy, and refreshed, after having an incredibly lovely dream about red hair and a shy smile, so he couldn’t help being positively giddy.

Meeting Crowley and having a proper conversation with him at the garden show had gone incredibly well, he thought. He had been extremely nervous and had nearly talked himself out of it several times, especially considering how badly his body had betrayed him the first time he saw the gorgeous omega. Luckily that first physical breakdown seemed to have been (mostly) brought under control with calm breathing, mental pep talks, and a carefully timed self-care session before attending the garden show. The pull of attraction had absolutely still been there in a big way, but it had been significantly more manageable and he’d been extremely pleased to have such a comfortable conversation with the omega. 

Crowley’s voice had been something of a surprise, if he was being honest. That’s not to say that it had been unpleasant - it had been _very_ pleasant - but Aziraphale hadn’t expected the gorgeous redhead to be so quiet, flustered, and almost shy. The omega was so incredibly good-looking, he’d rather expected him to speak with slick confidence, perhaps even a knowing cockiness. 

Aziraphale couldn’t say that being proven wrong was a disappointment. The reality had been charming and incredibly sweet.

He’d been utterly enraptured by the adorable way the omega stumbled over himself to answer questions and remain present in the conversation. And then had come that comment...the one about how Aziraphale’s smile set Crowley on fire. That had certainly caught Aziraphale off guard, and if the look on the omega’s face had been anything to go by Crowley had been just as surprised to hear the words come out of his own mouth. A shocked moment had passed, and then the words had really sunk in and Aziraphale had _really_ had to struggle with himself to stop from asking the omega to escort him home _immediately_. 

That likely would have been a trifle too fast. 

Instead, he had grabbed onto the opportunity with both hands, giving Crowley a business card with his mobile number on the back, which was quite bold for Aziraphale. Even as an alpha he had never been the type to initiate such things, so he’d had to really concentrate to keep breathing evenly as Crowley’s lovely long fingers accepted the card. In that moment, as a breeze wafted toward the alpha, he had caught a strong breath of the omega’s scent; rich and earthy with a hint of the smoky heat one gets from a well-burning bonfire. The resulting rush of desire had, he thought, very nearly given him away, but somehow he had managed a polite farewell and a dignified retreat. 

The activities he’d partaken of in the privacy of his bedroom once home had been neither polite, nor dignified, and had necessitated a steaming hot shower afterwards. 

All in all it had been a _very_ lovely day. Thanks to a particular item he’d picked up Saturday evening he hadn’t had to worry about bothering Crowley with his scent, and with that out of the way everything had gone incredibly well. Aziraphale was positively vibrating with excitement at the prospect of Crowley visiting the bookshop with some of his beautiful plants. He had been rather pleased that the omega seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the bookshop in general, and as he opened up for the day he found himself wondering what Crowley would think of the shop. More important, he wondered how long it would be until Crowley was able to initiate the visit. 

He needn’t have concerned himself worrying about that last bit. He had barely finished his morning tea, in fact, and hadn’t yet had any customers (an excellent morning indeed) when his mobile phone vibrated in his pocket. 

It was actually something of a miracle that Aziraphale even _owned_ a mobile phone. He was a uniquely old-fashioned kind of man, especially when it came to technology. In fact, the shop’s landline phone was an old rotary-style one that he just loved the aesthetic of. But when they had been attending university together Newton had constantly badgered him until he finally gave in and took the leap. He was never going to be the type to run out and grab the latest models, but he had upgraded a few times since then and the phone he currently had was perfectly capable of doing all the most important tasks, including the exchange of text messages. For that, Aziraphale was currently quite grateful.

 **_Morning Aziraphale_ ** , the text read. _**This is Crowley, from the garden show? Was wondering if you’re available this evening around 5? I’ve put together some options I think you’ll really like.** _

Aziraphale’s heart fluttered as he read the text twice more. He chuckled at the fact that Crowley thought he needed to remind him of who he was, as though he’d ever be able to forget anyone so perfect. 

His eyes then flicked up to the little clock in the corner of the mobile screen. It was barely nine o’clock. Even if _A Piece of Eden_ opened exceptionally early, Crowley must have prioritized his request in order to have pulled anything together so quickly. Did that mean that the omega was as eager to see Aziraphale as the alpha was to see him?

It was certainly encouraging, although… A flood of long-standing self-doubt was fighting to rise up and bully their way into Aziraphale’s mind. It was an old tale, born of poor past experiences, but he gritted his teeth against the urge to stroll back down that well-worn path. It had been far too long since the alpha had allowed himself to entertain the possibility of romance, and Crowley’s reactions the day before had been surprisingly encouraging. Perhaps Anathema’s assessment had been correct...perhaps Crowley needed - and wanted - someone kind in his life. Someone who would listen and praise and treat him as he so very clearly deserved to be treated. 

Aziraphale might be able to be that man - desperately _wanted_ to be that man, even if that meant keeping his baser desires under control for the time being. 

He typed his response slowly, mindful of typos and grammatical errors. 

_**Five o’clock sounds perfect, Crowley. The shop closes at six, so simply let yourself in and feel free to look around if I should be busy with customers.** _

He paused, bit his lip while failing to fight against a giddy smile, and finally added:

**_It shall be quite lovely to see you again, my dear._ **

Yes, that would do quite nicely. Aziraphale grinned, more excited than he’d been about anything in quite some time. He tucked his mobile back in his pocket, gave it a pat, and set out to do his best to tidy up around the shop. After all, he wanted both himself and the old girl looking their best for their handsome guest. 

* * *

**_It shall be quite lovely to see you again, my dear._ **

  
Crowley read, re-read, and re-re-read the second part of Aziraphale’s response text nearly a dozen times while trying - and failing - to find any possible interpretation of those words that wasn’t incredibly promising. 

“He thinks you’re _hot_ ,” a voice whispered directly into his ear. In response Crowley let out an incredibly undignified shriek while juggling wildly in an attempt to catch the mobile he’d just lobbed into the air. The acrobatics show eventually ended with him turning a positively poisonous glare on Anathema, who was laughing raucously. 

“Satan’s fucking bollocks, Ana!” he hissed even as his face went a darker shade than his hair. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to sneak up on people?”

Anathema’s answering snort made Crowley’s hiss turn into a glare. “I _hardly_ snuck up on you, you berk,” she guffawed. “I’ve been calling for you for five minutes and came back here to find you staring at your phone like it held the secret to life itself.” With a wink and a crossing of her arms across her chest, the alpha leaned back and gave her friend a long look up and down his body. “I hope you’re not thinking of getting cleaned up and changed before you go to the bookshop?”

It was certainly not a question that Crowley had been expecting. He looked down at himself - at the skin-tight jeans ripped at the knees, the black band tee smudged with potting soil, and the way his hands and forearms appeared to have been stained several shades darker than the rest of his skin. Then he looked back up at his friend, bewildered. “W-why wouldn’t I?” he stammered in confusion. “Ain’t exactly presentable right now, am I?”

Anathema’s sigh was part fond, part exasperated, part patronizing pity. “Oh Crowley, Crowley…” she hummed, shaking her head. “You just don’t understand the subtleties of physical attraction and desire.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at that and folded his own arms, mocking Anathema’s pose. As an omega who was regularly growling off unwanted advances from horny alphas, he was at a disbelieving loss. “Oh? Please, _do_ illuminate me,” he snarled.

The way Anathema’s smirk only widened was a bit infuriating. She lifted a finger to her lips, tapping it and considering carefully as she walked in a tight circle around her incredibly annoyed friend. “Aziraphale is a _very_ proper gentleman,” she explained as she strolled, speaking as though she were a teacher and Crowley her student. “He takes great pride in his appearance. He is always well put-together. Clean. Composed. Coordinated.” She paused her circuit just behind Crowley’s shoulder and leaned close to his ear so that she could breathe the rest of her lesson directly against his skin. “A man like that...he wants someone who is _filthy_ …”

If he’d had any kind of prior warning, Crowley would most certainly have done something to shield his reaction to those words. Unfortunately they had been _most_ unexpected, and before he knew it he was stuttering and stammering, the back of his neck as hot as the bloody sun. Though he had most _definitely_ not given it permission to do so, he found his mind flittering away into visions of himself crawling through the dirt for Aziraphale, his naked body stained and filthy and desperate for release while the gorgeous blond sat in a golden throne, prim and proper as could be, but for the leaking cock held tight in his hand-

“Y-you horrid bitch!” Crowley exclaimed as he shook his head violently, mortified by the vivid fantasy. “Are you fucking with me?”

Anathema’s laughter was so boisterous that for a few moments she couldn’t even _consider_ answering him. In lieu of words she gave her friend a little bump with her hip and a playful punch to the arm. “Just a bit,” she admitted when she was finally able to speak again. “But I wasn’t joking about the first bit.” She gave him a wink and a wide grin as she shuffled off back toward the shop proper, still giggling to herself. “He thinks you’re smoking, so don’t worry so much!” she called back as she went.

Crowley watched her go with narrowed eyes and a twitching jaw, frustrated that his jeans had become uncomfortably tight as a result of the unexpected fantasy that was still fresh in his head. Then something occurred to him and he ran off toward the shop proper with a shout.

“Hey, wait! So should I actually clean up or not?!”

* * *

Aziraphale was well known among friends and regular customers for getting so caught up in a book that he regularly became blissfully ignorant of the passage of time. The shop owner would pluck some favored tome or new find from his many shelves, sit down in one of the many plush chairs scattered throughout the shop, and become so hopelessly lost in the pages that he would often unintentionally ignore customers or forget to close (or open!) the shop at the proper hours.

Today was _not_ one of those days.

At first he’d managed to busy himself with cleaning; sweeping throughout the shop, tidying as best he could given that clutter had been a permanent aesthetic for years now, and wiping down the various counters and tables as he located unacceptable amounts of dust. Once all that was done he had settled into a chair near the front of the building with a much beloved copy of Shakespeare’s works in his hands, prepared to spend the rest of the day reading, as long as his attentions weren’t required.

That had been over an hour ago, and he hadn’t managed a full page yet. 

The problem, you see, was that his mind kept drifting off, imagining long, luscious red waves, sharp, angular hips, and the mesmerizing scent of smoky earth…

And so, when he glanced at the clock on the wall for the eighteenth time that hour, then down at his pocketwatch (to clarify, you understand), only to find that it was still barely past noon, Aziraphale began to get a little bit twitchy. 

Luckily, it was a slow shopping day, because every time the little bell above the shop’s door jingled, the alpha leapt to his feet, heart pumping, only to be disappointed and subsequently a bit crankier. By the time Newt walked in at half-four Aziraphale outright scowled before recovering himself enough to offer an apologetic smile. 

Newt, who was used to Aziraphale’s moods on particularly rough retail days, raised an eyebrow while a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “Bad day?” he asked as he set his briefcase down on the windowsill. 

Aziraphale had the good manners to look sheepish. He carefully placed his book on the table beside his chair before slinking over to greet his friend properly. “No, nothing of the sort, my dear,” he assured the other. “I just forgot that you said you were dropping by and I’ve been expecting a visitor.”

In the space of a heartbeat Newt’s face went from curious to uncharacteristically sly. “Ahhh, yes…” he drawled with a knowing grin. “Anathema _did_ mention that Crowley was going to be dropping by later.”

Though he was certain it was quite innocent, the fact that his friends were discussing the ‘situation’ without him had Aziraphale’s ears heating up. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Newt responded with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows. “Should I maybe stick around the shop to act as chaperone?”

Aziraphale’s glare could have dropped a man from eighty yards. “Don’t you bloody _dare_.”

Newt laughed (although it was a really rather nervous kind of laugh) and lifted both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, don’t strike me down,” he mocking (mostly) begged. “I’m leaving, I promise. I just wanted to drop off these.” Looking far too pleased with himself, the bespectacled omega fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out four oblong rectangles and handed two of them over to the alpha. 

Despite himself, Aziraphale actually squealed a little with happiness. “You managed to get them!” he exclaimed, immediately pouring over the details on the tickets. The food-loving alpha had nearly drooled with pleasure when he had found out that there was going to be a massive food festival in the nearby Saint James Park, but after hearing about the incredible number of pre-booked tickets that had already been accounted for, he’d resigned himself to being unable to attend. Newt, lovely boy that he was, had suggested that he might be able to score a few tickets from one of his work contacts, whose business was a large family restaurant franchise that would be participating in the event. Aziraphale had not, of course, wanted to get his hopes up, but now that he held the tickets in his own hand he felt the pent-up elation crashing over him all at once. 

“How exciting! I am _so_ looking forward to it, Newton, thank you so much!” he gushed with a foolish grin on his face. “I assume you’ll be accompanied by a lovely brunette alpha we both know?”

Adorably anxious at the best of times, Newt’s boyish face broke into a shy grin. “Y-yes, of course.” He cleared his throat and tucked his remaining two tickets back in his pocket. “I’m hoping to make it a bit of an all-day event, actually…” He cleared his throat again and Aziraphale couldn’t help smirking, because he could hear the unspoken words that indicated the omega was hoping to be invited back to his alpha’s home afterward. 

He was just about to indulge in some good-natured teasing in revenge for earlier, when he realized, belatedly, that he was currently holding _two_ tickets to the festival. “Two?” he found himself asking, almost embarrassingly oblivious.

“Oh, you know,” said Newt, having regained that sly smile as he scooped up his briefcase and headed for the door. “Just in case there was _someone_ that you might want to take along.”

Before Aziraphale could respond the omega was gone, leaving the alpha to wonder whether his closest friend and his girlfriend were the busiest of busibodies that he’d ever met. 

He didn’t think about it for long, however, because no sooner had Newt’s funny little blue automobile driven out of sight than the most gorgeous vehicle Aziraphale had ever seen pulled up right outside his shop. 

Aziraphale didn’t, himself, own a vehicle or even a driver’s licence. In fact, he knew little to nothing about cars at all because he’d always stuck to public transport and his own two legs. What he _did_ know, however, was antiques, and the sleek black beauty currently gracing the front of the shop definitely fell into that category. At a guess, he would have said it was nearly a century old, though it was smooth, shiny, and obviously extremely well taken care of. Whomever owned such a fantastically attractive specimen must be-

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped as the driver’s door opened and a familiar head of flame-red hair appeared. 

The alpha had ripped open his shop’s door (festival tickets hastily shoved in his wallet as he went) before Crowley had managed to reach for the door’s handle. The omega took a step back in surprise as the alpha nearly bowled him over, before lifting a hand and offering a small smile. “H-hey there.”

Crowley’s smile had Aziraphale’s chest tightening in the most wonderful way. He very nearly forgot why he’d rushed outside in the first place and simply grinned back for an awkward moment before flushing and pushing out a breathy, “Crowley, my dear, is this vehicle _yours_?”

Crowley’s head cocked to the side; it was clearly a question he hadn’t expected. Glancing over his shoulder as though having to remind himself of what he’d been driving, he confirmed, “Oh, uh, yeah. Figured I’d take her instead of the shop van since I’m headed home after this.” A loving smile crept across his lips as he gazed at the black beauty, before turning back to Aziraphale with a quirked eyebrow. “You like?” There was a very delicate note of hope in his voice, as if the alpha’s opinion meant a lot. 

“It’s magnificent!” Aziraphale gushed with complete honesty, and was pleased by the sweet, relieved smile he received. “To be honest, I know nothing at all about automobiles, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a gorgeous one before. She’s just _lovely_!”

The shy little wriggle of pleasure that worked through Crowley’s body at the praise made wonderful things happen to Aziraphale’s heart. 

“She was my great-grandfather’s,” the omega explained, flushing a bit. “Bentley. Twenty-four. Had her from new. Left her to my grandfather, who left her to me when he found out how much I loved her. She’s my pride and joy.” He flushed a bit brighter at those words, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say them. 

“Well it’s quite clear that you adore her,” Aziraphale gushed. “She looks as though she was just driven off the lot!” His reward for the praise was another adorable wriggle and a furthering of the pink flush across Crowley’s nose. 

“Yeah, well-” The omega cleared his throat and gnawed on his lip for a moment before ducking his head and making his way to the Bentley’s boot. “Wanna see what I brought?”

Aziraphale clapped his hands together in response and trotted off after Crowley.

The Bentley’s boot had been lined in a thick tarp and crammed with so many pots that Aziraphale teasingly asked Crowley whether he’d left anything back at the nursery. The omega chuckled at the joke - a little nervously, Aziraphale thought - before reaching for the nearest pot.

“I wanted to bring as much variety as possible to give you options. There’s lots more of each back at the nursery, so whatever you choose I can bring more if you want.” Crowley turned as he spoke, a mid-sized fern in his hands, just in time to see Aziraphale shifting the largest pot of the bunch toward himself. “Oh, watch it,” the omega warned, gently. “That one’s really-”

Aziraphale lifted the large planter with ease, wrapping a single arm around it so that his other hand would be free to open the shop door. “What was that, my dear?” he asked with just a hint of a saucy smile. 

Crowley stared with wide eyes, looking equal parts stunned and aroused, and oh...wasn’t _that_ a lovely thing? The omega made a very strange sound that, if asked to spell it phonetically, might have written as “ngk”. Aziraphale couldn’t help but be pleased by the reaction. 

“I know I look a bit, well...soft,” the alpha said with a little chuckle. “But as it turns out, years of carting around large stacks of books serves as a rather effective strength-training program.”

The sound Crowley made in response was something between bewildered agreement and a needy whimper, and though his eyes were hidden behind those dark sunglasses, it was clear that they were currently wide and unblinking. Aziraphale had to bite the inside of his cheek and turn toward the shop to hide his delight at the omega’s reaction.

 _Well that is_ quite _encouraging, isn’t it?_

“Shall we?” the alpha asked with a coy smirk, as he led the way to the shop. 

Together they made quick work of moving each of Crowley’s plants from the Bentley into the front of the shop, depositing them just inside the door. Once the job was done and the shop closed up ( _It’s a little early, but to hell with it, I’ve got company!_ ) Aziraphale watched as Crowley dusted his hands on his skin-tight jeans and finally took a moment to examine the shop in question.

Aziraphale waited without realizing that he was holding his breath. Those infernal glasses hid much of the omega’s expression, but the low whistle he let out as he moved further into the building was, Aziraphale thought, a good sign.

“Damn…” said the omega under his breath. He strode to the center of the shop, directly beneath the high, domed skylight, and spun in a circle to take it all in. “Is this really all yours? I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many books in one place!”

He’d heard similar things said in a derogatory tone from...people he’d rather not think about...but Crowley’s tone was one of quiet awe and admiration. Aziraphale couldn’t honestly recall a time when he’d felt more chuffed. Much as Crowley had seemed so pleased with Aziraphale’s assessment of his Bentley, Aziraphale realized that Crowley’s impression of the bookshop meant a lot to him. “All mine, yes,” he replied with a soft, happy sigh. “I know it’s a bit- Well, it’s a _lot_ cluttered. But there are only so many shelves you can fit in the available space, you see, and I-”

“It’s _amazing,_ ” Crowley interrupted.

Aziraphale stopped and met Crowley’s gaze, and suddenly they were both staring, faces both a little pink, lips just barely parted. Aziraphale found himself quite overwhelmed by a sudden vision of pressing the omega up against the nearest bookshelf, trapping those gorgeous gardner’s hands above his head, and claiming his mouth. He’d press his hips against the other’s and moan as he felt the answering hardness telling him that his affections were reciprocated. He would grind and rut against that long body, shred away those deliciously snug clothes, lift the omega up by the globes of his arse, and-

Aziraphale took a very sharp, very deep breath and forced what he desperately hoped was a convincingly normal smile on his face. “S-so!” he exclaimed before clearing his throat and adjusting his exuberant volume. “What are these lovely specimens you’ve brought me today?”

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he thought he saw Crowley take a slow, calming breath as well. 

For the next hour or so Aziraphale behaved like a perfect gentleman and attentive student. He bullied himself into being a model customer while Crowley described each of the lovely plants he had brought, how best to care for each, where in the shop they would get the best light for their health, and a few tips and tricks for encouraging them to grow and blossom. It was really a lovely conversation, even if it was more business than pleasure, and by the time Crowley was asking whether he wanted to keep any of these particular options, Aziraphale had quite fallen in love with-

“ _All_ of them?” Crowley blurted, clearly caught off guard. “Aziraphale, that’s not- I mean, you know you don’t have to take them all just because I brought them here, right? It’s really no trouble to take back the ones you don’t like, even if that means most or all of them.”

Certainly, the fact that Crowley had, himself, picked each of these plants out with Aziraphale in mind had _some_ bearing on the alpha’s decision, but he wasn’t about to tell _him_ that. Instead he stroked a pretty pink bloom on the potted cosmos they’d placed near the cash register. “It’s not that, my dear. They are all just so lovely, and they really do brighten up the shop so beautifully. I simply cannot stand to part with any of them now that I have them.”

_You grew them. You cared for them. You nurtured them. They are a part of you, so let me take up the mantle now. Let me prove to you that I can care for this small part of your heart…_

Crowley stared without speaking for so long that Aziraphale actually began to wonder if he hadn’t actually said something wrong. Then, finally, the omega’s face twitched into a fond smile, his shoulders lifting up in a relenting shrug. “Well...alright then, I s’pose. You’re the customer, after all, so, uh… Yeah, I’ll have Anathema invoice you then, I guess.” 

Aziraphale nodded, and then there was a brief moment of awkward silence as both alpha and omega realized that their reason for meeting together was over. 

_Oh, but that won’t do…_

“Perhaps…” Aziraphale found the words automatically spilling from his lips, though he was barely conscious of what those words were. “Perhaps you could pop in every now and then? To make sure that I’m taking proper care of them?”

Crowley’s face seemed to light up at the prospect. “Y-yeah, I could definitely do that,” he stammered adorably. “Absolutely…” He seemed as though he was going to say something more, but paused and thought instead, brow furrowing. 

“Something on your mind?” Aziraphale prompted, curious.

Biting his lip and shoving his fingers into the too-tight pockets of his scrumptiously tight jeans, Crowley seemed to be looking everywhere except at Aziraphale. “Was just wonderin’,” he murmured, staring somewhere at the wall behind the alpha. “S’just...I dun mean to be rude or anything...but Ana told me yer an alpha, but I haven’t been able to catch a scent from you since we met, and…” He left the actual question unasked, shuffling nervously as though expecting to be berated. 

Aziraphale’s neck felt a little hot, but he hastily told himself that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Even still, a hand fluttered toward his neck, where a rectangular patch hidden by his shirt’s collar was covering his scent gland. “Oh,” he said, forcing himself to speak evenly. He’d known, after all, that this conversation was bound to come up. “Yes, well, miss Anathema did tell me about your...condition, concerning the scents of alphas, and I just thought it would be a more pleasant meeting for you if you didn’t have to deal with mine.”

Crowley’s gaze lifted and he stared, lips parted, making him look surprised. “You’re...you’re wearing scent patches?” he asked, voice very small and quiet. “To...make me more comfortable?”

His bewilderment was not necessarily unfounded. Scent-blocking patches, while perfectly legal and simple to obtain, were considered by most to be a social faux pas of the most egregious type. To hide one’s scent - that which allowed others to understand who you were and what you were about - was looked upon as rather rude, in fact. 

“You...you don’t have to do that just for-” Crowley’s voice cracked a little and he was forced to clear his throat. “I just...I’m mostly used to it, you know? So you don’t really have to-”

“I want to, my dear,” Aziraphale interrupted this time. He folded his hands primly in front of his belly and made quite certain that he was standing tall. “I would much rather you be as comfortable as possible while I am around, my dear. Societal norms be damned.”

Crowley gaped at that, mouth moving as though searching for something to say. In the end he managed a soft, breathless, “T-thank you…” before quickly adding, “W-wait right there, okay? I’ll be right back.” He was out the door before Aziraphale could understand what was happening. 

The alpha waited and watched out the shop’s windows - curious and just a bit concerned - as Crowley ran to the passenger side of the Bentley, pulled something out, and dashed back to the bookshop in record time. When he pushed back through the doorway there was a hitch in his breath and a gorgeous bundle of flowers in his hand. 

“I, uh-” the omega stumbled over his words while an adorable pink crawled across his cheeks. “I w-was making some bouquet orders earlier and, uh- W-well, I cut too many flowers, so I- That is, er-” He was getting more flustered as he went, and had begun rubbing his free hand up and down his thigh as though attempting to ground himself. Finally, he simply strode forward quickly and thrust the flowers toward Aziraphale with his head down, hair falling around his face. “T-thought you might l-like ‘em...on the house, ‘f course.”

Aziraphale felt certain that his heart was beating hard enough to rip itself clear from his chest. He reached out with both hands to accept the bouquet, bringing it close to his face in order to inhale the wonderful intermingling fragrances. To his absolute delight, a hint of Crowley’s own scent remained among the perfume of the flowers, drawing a soft sigh of pleasure from the alpha. 

“Oh Crowley, darling…” The endearment slipped out, unnoticed by Aziraphale as his attention was focused on the wave of emotion and desire threatening to knock him on his arse. “They are _gorgeous_...thank you so much.”

Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to stare at the floor as though instinctively trying to hide. “S nothin’” he murmured, his voice soft and vulnerable. 

Aziraphale took a deep, steadying breath. Clutching the bouquet to his chest with one hand, he reached out with the other to gently press his index finger up beneath Crowley’s chin. Without a hint of resistance the omega allowed his face to be lifted until they were face-to-face once more. 

“Crowley, dear,” Aziraphale said with a careful smile. “I was wondering if perhaps you might like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

Even with those blasted glasses, it was easy to see the way Crowley’s eyes widened in surprise. There was a hard swallow, and the omega’s delicious scent seemed to increase exponentially. “I-I would like that very much,” he spit out hastily. “I- Y-yeah, that sounds...that sounds great.”

A storm of excitement and hormones raged inside Aziraphale, warring with his face as he struggled to remain calm despite the enormous grin he knew he was sporting. “Wonderful,” he breathed. “Would you kindly meet me here after closing? I know a lovely place just around the block that we could walk to.”

Crowley’s nod was overly-enthusiastic and positively adorable. A truly gorgeous smile had split his face and he was practically vibrating as he stood there. “Y-yeah, yeah, that sounds great. I’ll be here. At close. Absolutely.” Here he seemed to take notice of how flustered he was being, because he lowered his head - though the grin did not leave his face - and began backing himself toward the door. “Well, uh- Great! I’ll just- Yep...I’ll let myself out and- Y-yeah, okay, see you tomorrow then, angel!”

He was out the door in a flurry of limbs and practically dancing his way to the Bentley by the time the endearment fully registered in Aziraphale’s mind. 

“Angel?” the alpha sighed to himself with a warm, slightly-shaky smile. “Oh, but that is _very_ promising…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date! A date! They finally go on a date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bweeeeee...I'm so happy to have finally gotten to this chapter! I looooovvvvvve writing Crowley and Zira as flustered, adorable dating bois. Aren't they just the sweetest? I hope that you're all enjoying the courtship! <3
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

“Christ in a handbasket, Crowley, what did Aziraphale _do_ to you yesterday?”

Crowley twirled - honest to God _twirled_ \- past his friend, swinging his hips and humming to _Old Fashioned Lover Boy_ with a fistful of bendonias in one hand. He ducked beneath the counter for just a moment and popped back up with a stack of bouquet wrappers in the other hand. “No idea what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Ana,” he replied with a positively shit-eating grin as he danced his way back to his workstation. 

Anathema followed without hesitation, clearly intent on being a pest, but Crowley didn’t even have enough bitterness in him today to be annoyed with her. He was in, quite possibly, the best mood he’d been in since childhood. 

“No, but seriously,” Anathema needled, plunking her elbows in the middle of Crowley’s supplies in order to lean across his station. “I have _never_ seen you _dance_ at work. Even when we managed to procure that flame lily.” She fixed her friend with a steely gaze that let him know without a hint of doubt that she wasn’t going to leave him alone until he talked. “Something _obviously_ happened, so spill it or so help me I swear I’ll-”

“We have a date tonight!” Crowley shouted over her with absolutely no preamble, grin still firmly in place. “After his shop closes. He asked me out to dinner!” He couldn’t have torn the smile from his face if his life had depended on it, even when Anathema started squealing like an overclocked tea kettle. 

“I knew it, I _knew_ it!” the alpha cried, bouncing around in little circles that sent her long skirts flying. She pumped her fist in the air like she’d just personally won a major sporting event. “Yes! Yes! This is so exciting!” She stopped suddenly and let out a dramatic gasp while whirling back to look her friend up and down with horror in her eyes. “Please tell me you’re going to clean up and change before you go, right?!”

Crowley pursed his lips and couldn’t resist raising a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re fucking with me, again, right?” 

She might not have had such a visceral reaction had he told her he was planning on running away to join a circus. Her hands flapped erratically as she hopped on the balls of her feet like a hyperactive child. “No no no, Crowley, please, promise me you won’t go on a proper date looking like you just came from work!” 

The scowl Crowley gave her in response was ruined by the fact that he was still finding it quite impossible to stop his face from betraying his excitement. “I take great offense that you believe for even a moment that I would be so incredibly uncultured.”

“Take offense, my ass,” Anathema growled, glaring at him over her glasses. “ _Swear to me_.”

Crowley snorted. At Anathema’s doubled-down glare he burst into full-out laughter. “Anathema Device, calm yourself,” he insisted while twirling toward the industrial refrigerator with some completed bouquets. “I’m not going to show up in dirty work clothes with my hair all over the place to a date with someone who looks like a nobleman from the Victorian era.”

Anathema’s glare continued, her eyes tracking Crowley as he worked, watching him extremely carefully for several long moments before finally blurting out, “You’re gonna leave the glasses home, right?”

This, finally, had the effect of making Crowley freeze in mid-motion as he was reaching for a ribbon with which to tie off his current bouquet. “I, uh…” he muttered, uncertain and thrown off guard by the question. He honestly hadn’t considered it. He was just so used to wearing them _all_ the time…

When he finally looked up, it was to find that Anathema’s face was soft and sympathetic. “I really think you should,” she suggested in that sisterly tone that soothed and made him scowl all at once. 

Eventually Crowley nodded - the best he could manage in the moment - and worked the rest of his shift in relative silence.

* * *

By the time he was pulling the Bentley up to the curb alongside Aziraphale’s bookshop, Crowley was a veritable bundle of nerves. Anathema had forcefully ejected him from the nursery two hours early, with a command to go make himself gorgeous, but even with that extra time he felt woefully unprepared for what was about to take place. 

He’d scrubbed the absolute _Hell_ out of his entire body to ensure there were no traces of soil or fertilizer or any lingering gardening smells anywhere. He’d donned his nicest black trousers, along with a silky-red dress shirt that matched his hair, and a pair of shiny black snakeskin boots. His hair had taken the longest, since he’d fussed with numerous different styles before finally brushing it out and fixing it into a loose, wavy ponytail at the base of his neck. He looked good, and he damn-well knew it, but he was still petrified about Aziraphale’s pending reaction because he had taken Anathema’s advice. 

He’d left his sunglasses at home.

Thus it was with some trepidation and a hammering heart that the omega approached A.Z. Fell & Co dressed in his best and nervously clutching a single white rose. He really didn’t want this - whatever this was - with Aziraphale to be over before it even began, but Ana was right...there was no point in putting it off. She’d already admitted to explaining the details of condition to Aziraphale, so he knew that the alpha was at least willing to look past all _that_ baggage, but this one last thing had to be revealed as well…

He could see a shadow fluttering around inside the shop, so he gave a sharp wrap on the door and held a breath. 

“Coming!” rang out a lovely, angelic voice with excitement. 

The door swung open quickly, revealing the gorgeous porcelain smile that Crowley had been longing to see again...only for that smile to immediately falter as bright blue eyes flew open in surprise. 

Crowley swallowed hard and tried to ignore the way his heart dropped right down into his stomach. “H-hey,” he just barely managed, his voice sounding rather choked.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale gasped, low and soft, apparently incapable of looking away. “Your _eyes_ …”

The omega’s entire body tensed up, his jaw tight with disappointment. Here it was, the beginning of the end already. He couldn’t stop himself from squeezing his blasted eyes shut-

“My dear, they’re simply extraordinary!”

Despite himself, Crowley’s eyes popped back open with shock. “Guh-wha?”

Aziraphale had leaned in closer, so close that Crowley immediately felt dizzied by the proximity. Those brilliant blue eyes were looking into his own with positive _delight_ , of all things, and Crowley honestly had no idea what to do. He found himself entirely unprepared for what seemed very much like a _positive_ reaction.

Anthony Crowley, you see, on top of being saddled with a hormonal condition so rare that the doctors had no idea how to even _begin_ to deal with it, also had a very unique ocular mutation. His irises were much larger than normal, nearly devouring the scleras fully, and were also a deep, almost golden yellow. He’d been told on more occasions than he could count - especially when his pupils were dilated - that he looked like a cross between a snake and a feral cat. He’d had people recoil in horror, sneer, show fear, express disgust, and even accuse him of being some kind of demon. He’d experienced so many negative reactions throughout his life, that he’d been choosing to wear sunglasses practically around the clock for the past decade or so. The closest thing he’d ever gotten to a compliment concerning his eyes was from an omega he’d dated in college who had enjoyed a little fantasy about ‘taming a beast’. 

Yet here was Aziraphale, a man whom Crowley was finding himself thinking of more and more as a true angel, and he was fawning over his eyes as though he’d never seen anything so wonderful in all his life. It had the omega’s heart stammering to a shocked halt beneath his ribs, while his brain had decidedly shut down completely.

“They’re so _lovely,_ ” Aziraphale continued to gush with unquestionable sincerity. One of his hands had lifted to Crowley’s face, his fingertips tracing the omega’s temple with something far too close to reverence. “The color is like melted honey! Oh my dear, I’ve never seen anything so unique and beautiful…”

 _B-beautiful?!_

Crowley’s thoughts were a jumble of pure madness inside his brain, entirely unable to coalesce into anything approaching coherence. Instead he made several odd, desperate choking sounds that sounded as though someone had snatched both his bollocks in one hand and squeezed hard. 

Then, suddenly, Aziraphale was taking a step back and looking both embarrassed and distraught. “Oh my goodness,” he said with a wince as his hands began to wring in front of his belly. “I must apologize for prattling on so, my dear. It’s clear I’ve made you uncomfortable and I-”

The sincere nature of the distress on the alpha’s face was what finally shook Crowley out of his stupor. He lifted both hands in the air, waving them frantically as he exclaimed, “No, no, I’m not uncomfortable, I swear!” After another hard swallow and a deep, calming breath he managed a flustered smile. “S’ just a surprise is all. I’ve...I’ve never… That is, no one has ever _complimented_ my eyes before. ‘S why I wear the glasses all the time.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Aziraphale’s hand flew to his chest, jaw dropped as though positively scandalized. “Then, my dear, you’ve spent your life surrounded by fools!” There was a genuine anger to the words, a sense that some unforgivable injustice had been committed. “I have truly never seen anything so lovely in all my life, and I am so wonderfully pleased that I’ve been allowed to gaze upon them like this.” By the time he reached the end of his sentence the anger had faded and been replaced with affectionate awe. 

Crowley’s inner omega was keening so loudly inside his head that he worried for a moment that Aziraphale would somehow be able to hear it. It was taking everything he had in him not to simply melt into a muddle of mush right there on the walk outside the bookshop. _Fuck, yes, more, please, more of that, be kind to me, keep looking at me that way, take me home with you and keep me forever, never stop saying such sweet things to me-_

Summoning a truly massive store of willpower, Crowley managed to pull himself together just enough to lift the rose toward Aziraphale and squeak out, “For you!”

The alpha looked down in surprise, and then his eyes lit up so bright one might think he’d just been handed the moon and all the stars in the sky. He accepted the rose as though it was something incredibly precious, a priceless token, beaming at it and Crowley in turns. “Oh, my dear, what a sweet gesture,” he praised.

“M’ not _sweet_ …” Crowley grumbled under his breath, but the omega inside was positively _purring_. 

Aziraphale must have understood, because he chuckled to himself, smirked, and pulled the shop’s door closed before tucking the rose delicately into the buttonhole of his breast pocket to serve as a boutonniere. He offered Crowley one more blindingly beautiful smile before gesturing up the street. “Shall we?”

_Yes, yes, let’s go, lead me where you want, leash me up and keep me as your faithful pet, let me lay at your feet and tell me how good I am-_

“Sounds good. Lead the way.”

The walk to the restaurant was a short one spent entirely in silence, but it was a wonderfully comfortable, companionable silence that felt amazingly like strolling with someone Crowley had known his whole life. His heart fluttered at the thought as he struggled to get himself under control. It was just a first date after all. No need to get ahead of himself. _Definitely_ no need to be letting the omega inside him run wild, panting at Aziraphale’s heels like a pathetic little puppy. Something was bound to change by the end of the evening. One of them (most likely Aziraphale) would realize that they just weren’t compatible with the other. One of them (most likely Crowley) would fuck something up royally.

“Here we are,” the alpha announced cheerfully. 

They’d arrived at a posh little French restaurant with pretty stained-glass windows. It looked fancy, but not _too_ fancy, which caused Crowley to feel a little flash of relief. He hadn’t really spent much time considering his expectations of the dinner in question, but the reveal had him pleased. If Aziraphale had taken him somewhere _too_ fancy on their first date he would have felt suffocated, like the alpha had _intentions_ for how the night would end. (And while his omega was practically panting at the very concept, Crowley in general was simply not that kind of person.) Too casual of a choice and Crowley would have spent the entire date wondering if it even really _was_ a date, or simply a little thank you for his help with the bookshop’s new plants.

This little French place - particularly when combined with the alpha’s overwhelming praise of the omega’s eyes - definitely screamed ‘first date on which I want to make a good impression’. Having that all worked out in his head had Crowley wanting to grin like a giddy lunatic. 

A cute little brunette in a white dress shirt served as their host, leading them to a table in a nice quiet corner with a pillar candle burning at the center of it. Before Crowley could even consider approaching one of the two chairs Aziraphale was already there, holding one out and gazing at him with a warm smile. For a moment Crowley froze, once again caught off guard. He couldn’t rightly recall a time in his life when anyone had pulled out his chair for him. Then, having somehow missed his body moving, he was sitting, heart doing highly inappropriate things to him while Aziraphale carefully nestled the chair back into the table with the omega on it. Crowley thought he may have said ‘thank you’, but he couldn’t be entirely certain. 

Their host handed them a pair of menus and began rattling off something about specials and drinks. Crowley didn’t hear a word of it because he was busy staring at the menu, which was swimming in front of his eyes as he realized that he had no idea what any of the items on it even _were_. 

A wave of panic crashed over the omega as he realized he’d never eaten proper French cuisine before. Nothing on the menu - beyond the ‘escargot’, which he knew damned well he didn’t want - sounded familiar, and he had no idea how to inquire without looking like an uncultured buffoon in front of the most cultured person he’d ever met. _Fuck_ , they hadn’t even ordered yet and already he was-

Warm fingertips touched the back of Crowley’s hand, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. He looked up to find Aziraphale’s kind, patient eyes looking back at him, while the alpha’s thumb moved featherlight over his knuckles, calming and soothing. 

“Would you be kind enough to allow me to order for you, my dear?” the beautiful angel asked. “I would very much like to spoil you with some of my favorites.”

_Would I be...kind-?_

Was Aziraphale trying to rescue him from a stressful and embarrassing situation? That was…

After a brief and breathless pause, Crowley managed to force himself to smile and nod. “Yeah- Yeah, sure, that- That sounds great.”

Aziraphale rewarded him with an indulgent grin before turning to the waitress, who had replaced the host while Crowley was busy having his mental breakdown. The alpha rhymed off a number of items with confidence, none of which the omega even _attempted_ to understand because he was too busy swooning like a schoolgirl. 

When the waitress had pocketed her notepad and wandered off to prepare their drinks, Aziraphale clapped his hands lightly in front of himself and settled Crowley with a soft, encouraging smile. “So tell me, my dear,” he prompted, “how did you get involved with the care and raising of plants?”

_Questions...okay...okay, normal-type questions. I can handle this…_

“Hmm...it’s not a terribly interesting story,” Crowley admitted, wishing that it, in fact, was. “I’ve just always liked plants, really. After my parents were gone I started focusing on gardening as a kind of outlet. Anathema used to join me, ask for advice on how to grow her herbs and the like. We both went to community college, mostly just for something to focus on instead of leaping right into the workforce, and while there we came up with the idea for _Eden_. And, I suppose, we’ve been pretty lucky with it so far.”

Aziraphale was rapt while the omega spoke, regardless of the simplicity of the tale. “Oh, luck has nothing to do with it, I’m certain,” he insisted. “Your plants are by far the most lovely and verdant in all of London, and I’m sure everyone who sets foot in the nursery sees it as well.”

A pleased, rumbling purr threatened to make its way up Crowley’s throat at the alpha’s words, but he just barely managed to swallow it back down before offering up a grateful smile instead. “How about you and your bookshop?” he asked, and took the opportunity to cheekily raise an eyebrow. “Seems like it might be a bit of an odd endeavour for you, considering some of the rather interesting Yelp reviews I’ve read about it.” 

Aziraphale’s cheeks pinkened and his eyes widened. He seemed genuinely surprised that Crowley would bother to research his shop, and then quickly began to look more flustered than anything else. “Oh?” he said, coughing a bit into his hand. “I...must admit that I’ve never checked. What, er...what do they say?”

Oh, he’d been hoping Aziraphale would ask that. Crowley leaned onto the table, one hand beneath his chin and the other teasing the rim of this water glass. “Well, that’s the funny thing, you see,” he said with a hint of torment in his voice. “One review will praise you for helping them find a personal ‘grail’ or the perfect gift for a loved one, then the next will claim that you’re a crazy hoarder who doesn’t know the difference between a shop and a personal collection.” He chuckled a little at that and settled the flustered alpha across from him with a challenging stare. “So, which is it, Mister Fell?”

Their waitress chose that moment to appear with two glasses and a bucket of ice housing the wine Aziraphale had ordered. Crowley watched with genuine interest as the alpha taste-tested a small portion before allowing the waitress to fill both of their glasses. The omega took a careful sip once she’d gone and hummed in approval. He normally went in for hard liquor - whiskey was his favorite - but he had to admit that Aziraphale had excellent taste in wine. 

Once they were settled again, drinks at the ready, Crowley threaded his fingers together beneath his chin and waited with patience and a slightly-cocky smile.

Aziraphale fiddled with the stem of his glass for a few moments longer, purposely being obtuse, before finally allowing a bit of a smirk to break through his facade. “Well, my dear, I suppose one could correctly say that I am...well, a bit of a book _snob_ , as it were.”

Crowley couldn’t help it. He burst into raucous, delighted laughter. “Oh, do tell!”

Aziraphale’s face was quite pink, but he was still smiling as he played with his wine glass. “I just believe that books - especially rare or otherwise special ones - deserve to be respected and properly cared for. Therefore, if I get an inclination that a prospective customer is not capable of showing that level of respect and care, I will simply...encourage them to shop elsewhere.”

Crowley was absolutely fucking enchanted. “So what you’re saying,” he gasped between bouts of joyful laughter, “is that you’re a bit of a bastard?”

Aziraphale fairly _erupted_ with laughter, nearly tipping his wine glass over as he barked in surprise. “Yes, I suppose I am, a bit!” he exclaimed happily. 

They laughed together, their two voices mingling in a positively glorious harmony, and after that they fell into easy conversation. Aziraphale explained that most of his profits came from book restoration services, which he had become a fairly well-known expert in, and Crowley told him about the different herbs he grew for Anathema’s purposes. They engaged in a playful argument concerning musical tastes (Crowley loved classic rock; Aziraphale was unsurprisingly a fan of orchestral music) and movies (Crowley enjoyed a bit of everything; Aziraphale proclaimed that books were almost always superior in every way). By the time their food arrived they were laughing and teasing each other like old friends. 

Despite his naturally pessimistic nature - especially concerning relationships and _especially_ relationships involving alphas - Crowley was feeling really good about this date. The two men differed in many ways, yet there was a remarkable sense of comfortable camaraderie between them. He was smiling a little goofily to himself while examining the meal Aziraphale had ordered for him, and contemplating how nice it felt to be wined and dined, when-

He heard it. 

A truly salacious moan worthy of the most delicious of sexual acts.

Crowley’s head shot up, golden eyes blown wide in surprise. Aziraphale’s own blue eyes had fluttered closed and he was slowly withdrawing his fork from between pursed pink lips. Crowley was absolutely helpless but to watch as the alpha moaned in pure bliss over the single bite of food. 

All too soon, Aziraphale’s eyes opened and there was something like rapture in them. “Oh, my dear, you simply _must_ try one of the mushrooms. They are absolutely to _die_ for.”

Crowley was quite certain that he opened his mouth, but he wasn’t certain what - if anything - had actually come out of it. His more higher-functioning faculties were far too busy begging the rest of his body to behave itself, as the alpha’s moan had caused a rather extreme reaction in his lap. As a vague attempt to mask his truly astounding arousal, the omega viciously speared a mushroom from his own plate with his fork and shoved it in his mouth. He was hazily aware that it was probably quite tasty, but he barely took notice of the thing sliding down his throat because Aziraphale was about to take another bite. 

Crowley watched, mouth dry and trousers feeling uncomfortably snug, as the alpha cut a piece of braised beef, delicately pressed his fork into it, and then pushed it past those lovely lips. The moment they closed around the shining silver utensil the angelic creature let out another of those gloriously _sinful_ moans. 

Crowley had to suppress a whimper. _Holy fuck, is he doing that on purpose? Who the hell eats like that? Fuck, if he makes sounds like that at dinner, what must he sound like in the bedroom?_

That, of course, was a poor choice of thought process, because now the omega was scooting closer to the table in hopes of hiding his fairly obvious erection beneath the folds of the tablecloth. 

Unfortunately, once Aziraphale was finished making love to his second bite, he noticed that Crowley was not, in fact, eating. “I-is it not to your like?” he asked, looking concerned and perhaps a little bit embarrassed. “It’s no trouble at all if you would like to order something else, of course.”

 _No no no no-_ Crowley shook his head vehemently while covertly (he hoped) snaking a hand down beneath the table to readjust himself. “No! No, it’s great, it’s delicious!” he insisted, though he’d yet to take a second bite. “I-I just got a little distracted, but it’s perfect, angel, really.” He hadn’t even noticed the pet name sneaking out until Aziraphale’s concern melted into a warm, amused smile. 

“That’s the second time you’ve called me ‘angel’,” the alpha pointed out, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Crowley felt that his entire body was burning up with embarrassment. _SHIT! Have I been saying that out loud?!_

“That is- I mean, er- You just have kind of a _look_ , and- Ah _fuck_.”

Aziraphale was giggling - honest-to-god giggling - by the end of Crowley’s mangled attempt at an explanation. “Oh, my dear, please don’t get yourself worked up,” the alpha said with a soft chuckle. “It’s quite alright. In fact-” He looked up from under his eyelashes and offered up a dazzling smile. “-I think I rather like it.”

Crowley’s mouth and throat had gone quite dry, but Aziraphale’s reassurance had him smiling nervously and hoping that he wasn’t as red as he suspected he was. “Oh, ah- oh good,” he sighed in relief. “Because, I mean, you kinda are, you know? The Angel of Guarding and Protecting Literature.” To the omega’s delight his little joke had the alpha bursting into pleased laughter. 

“Oh yes, I like that _very_ much,” Aziraphale giggled gleefully. The area around his eyes crinkled in the most wonderful way, and-

Oh lord, Crowley’s omega was purring like an outboard motor. _He likes it...he likes it when I call him ‘angel’...I made him laugh...I made him happy-_

The remainder of the meal was punctuated by many more of Aziraphale’s overly appreciative little moans, each of which went straight to Crowley’s groin, but he managed to survive by focusing on his own food and the knowledge that he’d made his date smile and laugh and that he _liked_ his silly little pet name. The omega _did_ end up thoroughly enjoying the food and the wine, though he didn’t have nearly as much of an appetite as the alpha, who graciously accepted when Crowley slid the remainder of his plate across the table with a grin. 

They were enjoying some light conversation with the rest of their wine when their waitress appeared with a dessert cart covered in pretty little cakes and pastries. Aziraphale’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, but then flickered toward Crowley for a moment before he frowned and began nibbling at his lower lip. “I-I really _shouldn’t_ ,” he mused, looking none too pleased about it. 

Crowley, genuinely bewildered, cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

And, wait...was that a spark of _shame_ in Aziraphale’s eye? 

“Oh, I just believe that I’ve likely had enough, that’s all,” the alpha said flatly. 

Crowley could have smelled the lie from the other side of the city, and was beginning to catch on based on the way Aziraphale was glancing downward at his own body. With a frown and a determined hum, the omega turned to the dessert cart. He chose a particularly decadent-looking lemon cake and thanked the waitress, noting the little wriggle of disappointment from Aziraphale as she nodded and left with the cart.

Carefully watching the alpha from the corner of his eye, Crowley picked up his fork and took the smallest possible slice of a bite into his mouth. He hummed, pretended to think, swallowed, and announced, “Nah. Too sweet for me.” Then, with what he hoped was a sly smile, he pushed the cake across the table. “Bet you’d love it though.”

Aziraphale blinked back at him, glanced at the cake, and stammered, “Oh, but I’ve already had so much, you know, and-” He swallowed and surreptitiously glanced down at his belly, which was, _perhaps_ a little bit rounder and softer than some people’s ideal.

Anthony Crowley, however, thought the alpha’s body was absolutely perfect. In fact, he’d barely been able to stop thinking about how bloody sexy it had been when Aziraphale had hefted that huge planter with one arm. He’d spent the entire night afterward imagining that strength being applied to _him_ ; it had been an extraordinarily effective fantasy.

“ _Angel_ ,” Crowley said firmly, while Aziraphale fiddled with his waistcoat. “Life is too short to worry so much about calories. And besides-” He paused to let his lips curl into a demonic grin, one that he knew was the definition of temptation. “-you know you wanna.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley with a stony, emotionless face for long enough that the omega began to fear that he’d made a terrible misstep. But then, finally, a lovely smile began to appear and the alpha seemed to relax considerably. “Well then,” he sighed in a show of mock-defeatism. “Temptation accomplished, I suppose.” Then he was immediately digging in, and while Crowley was once again desperately fighting the effect of the man’s wanton moans of culinary pleasure, he was also mentally purring with his own kind of pleasure.

They sat and talked a while longer while Crowley worked on some water and coffee to ensure he’d be okay to drive later. Aziraphale switched to tea in solidarity, and Crowley was quite certain that they overstayed their welcome because they couldn’t seem to stop finding things to laugh about together. 

After a brief playful argument concerning the merits of modern technology, Aziraphale insisted on paying the bill (Crowley noticed that he left a _very_ generous tip) and they finally left the restaurant to find that it had grown dark. 

It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky letting the moon and a few stars twinkle down on them, and Crowley was walking with - in his opinion, anyway - a literal angel. It had been an absolutely perfect evening. The omega honestly felt as though he was walking on air.

“Can I give you a lift home?” he asked once they’d arrived back at the bookshop and the Bentley. 

Aziraphale beamed at the offer, but shook his head. “I’m already there,” he explained, gesturing toward the shop. “My flat is upstairs.”

Crowley grinned and chuckled a little at the information. He really should have known that Aziraphale wouldn’t want to be far away from his books at any given time. It was a little bit disappointing, though, that he wouldn’t get Aziraphale in the Bentley tonight. “Well...this is it then, I s’pose,” he said, unable to hide the little note of regret in his voice.

Aziraphale gazed back at him and, oh...was it just Crowley’s imagination or was there disappointment in those blue eyes as well? “Yes, I suppose it is…” the alpha sighed. “Well, my dear, I must thank you for a truly wonderful evening.”

Crowley cocked his head to the side, smiling but confused. “I think you’ve got it backwards, angel,” he suggested playfully. “I should be the one thanking you, seeing as you invited and treated.”

Aziraphale hummed, pretending to consider and agree, but there was a glint of mischief in his eye. “Perhaps,” he allowed, “but you gave me the immense pleasure of your lovely company, my dear.”

If ever there was a moment during which Crowley felt it was entirely possible that his inner omega would burst from his chest and become its own living, breathing entity, this was the one. 

_Pleasure-! Immense-! Me- Him- Ngk-!_

The omega was still struggling to reboot his brain and come up with some kind of a response that didn’t make him sound like a moron, when the alpha took a step forward and leaned close, crowding him up against the side of the Bentley. 

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale in his sweet, low voice, full of intent. “If you don’t think it too forward of me, I was wondering if perhaps you might allow me the pleasure of kissing you good-night?”

 _OH_. Had Crowley thought his brain was already shut down? Clearly he had been wrong, because now he felt as though the ‘blue screen of death’ was flashing in front of his eyes. His tongue felt like lead, and though he tried quite desperately to force out a response, his throat seemed suddenly incapable of making noise. So, instead, working with what few synapses were still firing, he nodded thrice in rapid succession. 

Aziraphale’s sly smile could almost be described as demonic, as though he knew precisely what he was doing to Crowley’s insides and was enjoying it immensely. 

Then there was a hand stroking lightly up Crowley’s shoulder, dipping beneath his hair and around to lay featherlight across the back of his neck. That alone was enough to make the omega’s knees feel weak, but before he could even properly adjust to this new sensation, there was a warm puff of breath, followed by a heartbreakingly tender press of lips against his own. Now, it was officially over for Crowley. He knew, without purposely thinking it, that he was ruined for anyone else forevermore. 

He didn’t even realize that his eyes had fluttered closed until Aziraphale began to slowly draw back away. The omega’s body swayed forward, chasing the touch, as his eyes just barely reopened to reveal slightly hazy vision. He felt drunk. Positively off his trolley. With the one or two working brain cells that remained to him, he noted that Aziraphale was gazing back at him with a similar half-lidded look that showed he was every bit as affected by the kiss as Crowley felt. 

And didn’t _that_ make his omega instincts fire into overdrive.

_Ask me to stay- It’s okay if it’s you- Tell me you want me- Tell me you need me- Tell me what you want, anything, everything- I’ll give it all to you, anything you could ever want, just name it-_

Aziraphale bit his lip, before letting his tongue dip out to lick away the remains of Crowley’s lingering taste, a motion that very nearly had the omega collapsing. Then, however, the alpha drew back - reluctantly? - and softly sighed, “Will you send me a message so that I know you got home safely?”

For a few long heartbeats Crowley gazed back at Aziraphale with a mixture of arousal and dismay. It took a mortifyingly long time for him to swallow, force himself to breathe, and accept that, yes, Aziraphale _did_ intend for them to part, and it _was_ probably a good idea. _First date_ , he reminded himself angrily, while aloud he said, “Y-yeah, I can definitely do that.” Despite having great difficulty with any kind of coordinated movement, he managed to reach back and wrap his fingers beneath the door handle behind him. “Till then, angel,” he sighed with a besotted smile, and toppled backward into the Bentley’s driver’s seat. He started her up, threw on his seatbelt, and allowed himself one last glance back at the infuriatingly beautiful alpha watching him from the curb, before finally driving off. 

Crowley barely registered the drive. It was practically a miracle that he arrived back at his flat without a major incident. He stumbled into the building’s elevator with a foolish smile on his face and immediately whipped out his mobile to pluck out a message.

 **_Home safe and sound, angel. Thank you for a perfect evening._ **

He hit ‘send’ and stared at the screen all the way to his flat, through the door, down the hall, past the sitting area, and-

**_It was truly my pleasure, darling. I would love to do it again soon, if you are amenable?_ **

Crowley never understood how much willpower he truly possessed until he managed to hold himself back from typing ‘ _YES_ ’ immediately and adding a truly exorbitant number of exclamation points. Instead, he took several deep, steadying breaths (while continuing to grin like an absolute fool) and then typed in a much more dignified response.

**_I’m definitely amenable. Very amenable, me. Maybe we could see a show before dinner next time?_ **

He’d made it to his bedroom and flumped down on his bed, kicking off shoes and socks as he fell. He made a very valiant effort to pull his shirt up over his head without taking his eyes off his phone, but ended up getting caught with it stuck around his arms when Aziraphale’s next text came through. 

**_That seems like a wonderful idea. Is there any day that is best for you?_ **

Crowley gnawed on his lip and fought his way out of his shirt, hurling it across the room for daring to be so difficult. He knew what he _wanted_ to say, but he also didn’t want to seem too clingy, looking for too much too fast. He didn’t want Aziraphale to think that he was some nutter who glommed onto anyone who showed them a hint of affection. 

To his genuine surprise, he didn’t get a chance to decide how to respond, because a second message came through moments later.

**_I must admit, my dear, at the risk of sounding forward, I would be quite delighted to see you again at your earliest convenience._ **

“At my earliest convenience?” Crowley groaned to himself. “Fuck, angel, come over here right now if you want my earliest convenience!” Several more deep breaths later, he managed to type out something a little less telling.

**_Right there with you, angel. I expect it’ll take at least a couple of days to get tickets to anything though. Maybe in the meantime I could bring some lunch over to yours on my break tomorrow?_ **

He sat and stared and held his breath, silently praying for a favorable response, and was swiftly rewarded. 

**_Oh, that sounds quite lovely, my dear! I shall be waiting for you with bated breath._ **

All of the air went out of Crowley’s lungs in a single gush. “Fuck me…” he breathed, desperate for oxygen. “Could that antiquated dialect be any fucking sexier?” He reached back to tug the elastic from his hair and tossed it unceremoniously across the room. “When the hell did ‘proper Victorian gentleman’ become my bloody type?” 

It was obviously a rhetorical question. He knew _precisely_ when it had happened: the exact moment he’d first set his gaze upon cloud-like curls and sky blue eyes. 

**_It’s a date, angel. See you tomorrow around noon?_ **

He was gone. Absolutely bloody gone. There was positively no saving him now. Dig a hole and throw him in, cover him up and plant chrysanthemums over him.

**_I’m looking forward to it. Sweet dreams, darling._ **

Crowley would forever deny the sound that came from his throat when confronted with the word ‘darling’. It was all he could do to keep himself together long enough to type out the words: **_Sweet dreams, angel_** **.**

* * *

Back at a bookshop in Soho, in the loft on the second floor, down the hallway in the bedroom, Aziraphale read Crowley’s final text and closed his eyes to focus on the erratic beating of his foolish heart. 

The entire night had gone so much better than the alpha had been expecting. Not that he’d been expecting anything _bad_ , exactly, but he hadn’t gone in with the most overwhelming levels of confidence, considering his personal dating past. Oh, he’d had a few short relationships, some of them quite fun for a time, but for the most part he’d just never felt that he’d _clicked_ with anyone before. At least, not in a way that indicated the possibility of a lasting relationship. 

Tonight, however...oh, the entire evening had been so very lovely. Crowley was _so_ easy to talk to, so sweet and charming whilst also managing to be playfully sarcastic and antagonistic. They seemed able to make a pleasant conversation out of anything, and by the time the date was an hour old Aziraphale had begun to feel as though they’d known each other for years. 

Then there had been that good-night kiss, and...dear lord… Aziraphale had been aiming for sweet and soft; just a chaste promise that there would most certainly be another date, should the omega wish for one. And it _had_ been sweet and soft...but it certainly hadn’t felt _chaste_. It had felt more like fireworks shooting off from every inch of the alpha’s body, like the richest of chocolates melting on his tongue, like a raging flame had been ignited somewhere deep inside of him. And as their lips pressed together, Crowley’s earthy scent had flared with hints of lilac and rosewood, a heady fragrance that had screamed of arousal, sending lightning up and down Aziraphale’s spine. 

Oh, how _desperately_ he had wanted to invite the omega into his flat, to continue kissing him, to kiss every inch of his beautiful body, to _experience_ him in every way possible...but no. Aziraphale refused to move too fast. He wouldn’t allow Crowley to think that he was only after one thing. No. Crowley deserved to be properly courted, to be doted upon, to be swept off his feet and _wooed_. Crowley deserved for his affections to be _earned_.

And that was precisely what Aziraphale intended to do. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale have a lunch date at the bookshop, and an emotional conversation via text...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhhh! You guys, I totally lost track of time over the holidays, and I totally had no idea it was even Monday! So, sorry for this being late, but you can thank one of my Patrons, Ueida, for reminding me of the day of the week. ^_^;;; Enjoy, my darlings!
> 
> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

The morning following the French restaurant, Newton popped into the bookshop with a fresh tea from the place across the street, and it was clear as the nose on Aziraphale’s face that the lad had been sent by Anathema to do reconnaissance. He considered playing innocent and ignorant, as he graciously accepted the tea, but it was proving far too difficult to keep the positively delighted smile from his face. 

“You can tell her that everything went quite swimmingly,” he told his friend without even a prompt. 

Newt, for his part, made the customary sounds of polite confusion before allowing his own face to break out into a pleased grin. “So it was a good date then?”

Aziraphale took a long, drawn out sip of tea - followed by a soft, relaxed sigh - just to be annoying before responding with, “Yes, I should think it rather was.”

Newt’s congratulatory clap on his shoulder had Aziraphale chuckling. “Will I hear the same from Ana when she inevitably calls with Crowley’s side of things?” the omega asked with a wink. 

Would he? Aziraphale certainly hoped so, and was rather surprised to find that he actually felt quite confident. Past relationships had given him quite the penchant for pessimism in these sort of situations, but something about the previous night’s date had just felt so...right. So, rather than his usual detached brand of emotional self-defence, he found himself instead grinning like a child on Christmas morning. 

“You know, my dear, I think you actually may.”

* * *

Across the city at ‘ _A Piece of Eden_ ’, Anathema was positively flabbergasted. Shocked. Bewildered. Absolutely _amazed_ , and privately patting herself on the back for apparently instigating events that were rapidly transforming her naturally grouchy, oft-antisocial friend into a _happy person_.

Crowley, you see, was _dancing_. Around the shop. In the middle of the work day. And not just back in the nursery! As Anathema watched with wide eyes and a jaw that refused to remain properly closed, the omega practically _waltzed_ through the shop proper, filling displays and singing along to the music over the speakers while he twirled and swung his hips. 

He had even _helped a few customers_ , with a bloody _smile_ on his face, like he’d _enjoyed_ it!

It took awhile for the initial shock to wear off, but by mid-morning Anathema was laughing outright at her friend’s shenanigans, positively overjoyed by what she was seeing. “Can I take your extraordinary mood to mean that things went well last night?” she asked once the early-morning customers had wandered off. 

Crowley’s response was paired with a toothy grin and flushed pink cheeks. “It was amazing!” he gushed without hesitation, as if he’d only been awaiting the opportunity to let it all burst out. “He’s so… Ah, _fuck_ , Ana, he’s just- And he’s like- And when he- _Lord alive_ , Ana, I’ve never known anyone like him…” He trailed off, face dreamy as he stared at nothing with a smile on his face. 

Anathema lifted an eyebrow and snickered. “Informative,” she teased. “You almost managed a whole proper sentence there.” With a quick glance around the shop to ensure there were no lingering customers, she leaned close and spoke in a dramatic stage-whisper. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that he shagged you absolutely senseless.”

Crowley’s entire face became a vibrant shade of red so quickly that he barely had time to sputter his incoherent embarrassment before it was rivaling the roses he was currently displaying. “I-it was our _first date_ , Ana!” he cried (carefully avoiding the mental reminder that he would _absolutely_ have accepted an offer had it been forthcoming). He almost said something in his own defence - something along the lines of how he would _totally never_ shag on a first date no matter what his own gut was insisting - but before he knew what was happening entirely different words were pouring from him. “Aziraphale isn’t like that. He’s...he’s a gentleman.” Then his cheeks flushed an even brighter shade in the face of the realization that he already cared enough about the alpha to instinctively defend his honor. 

Anathema had evidently come to the same realization, because there were practically actual hearts in her eyes as she squealed with joy. “Awww, _Anthony_!” she squeaked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m so happy for you!”

Crowley grumbled a bit, having cringed at the use of his given name, but it really was nearly impossible to stop himself smirking like a lovesick buffoon. “Geez, calm yourself,” he murmured under his breath. “S’ not like he bloody _proposed_.” (This thought, however, had him flushing again and sighing wistfully.) “That was one _hell_ of a kiss though…”

That, as could have been expected, elicited a second round of squealing. 

“Oh, uh, hey, is that the time?” Crowley stammered, walking backward away from his tea-kettle of a friend. “I’ve, uh, gotta be off, taking a lunch, sure you won’t mind, right?” He was halfway to the door when he turned to practically sprint for it. A high-pitched shriek of, “You’re going to see him, aren’t you?!” followed him out of the shop and halfway across the road. 

* * *

Aziraphale was carefully watering one of his new plants when a gentle rap at the bookshop’s door preceded the jingle of the little bell above it. At the sight of the beautiful creature that appeared through that door, the alpha had to pause mid-misting in order to allow himself a deep, calming breath. He tried to tell himself that he was being ridiculous - he’d just seen Crowley _last night_ for goodness sake - but it was a useless endeavor. His body simply insisted on tingling all over at the omega’s arrival. On pure instinct, he found himself taking a second deep inhale to seek out that perfect, natural floral scent. 

“Cheers, angel,” Crowley greeted with a soft smile. His voice betrayed equal parts nervousness and elation. He carefully pressed the shop’s door closed before holding up a white paper bag with a dark blue logo. “I brought lunch, as promised.”

Aziraphale stubbornly shooed away the internal voice that suggested there was something _else_ he would very much like to nibble, and instead flashed a genuinely pleased smile. “Oh, wonderful! I’ll just lock up and we can enjoy it in the back room.”

Crowley stepped aside and watched with the air of a confused puppy while the bookseller clicked the deadbolt on the door and flipped the window-sign to ‘Closed’. “Does your shop normally close at lunch?” he asked. “I didn’t notice anything in the hours.”

Aziraphale made a show of clearing his throat and offering the omega a cheeky smirk. “Not...strictly speaking,” he admitted. “But by now most of London has learned to never _expect_ my shop to be open, regardless of what the hours say.” He winked and was rewarded with a sharp bark of laughter from Crowley. 

“Okay, second question, since I was just wondering earlier,” mused the omega as they walked to the back of the shop. “You own and run the shop by yourself, right? So then, who does the ‘and Co’ stand for?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle at that, as Crowley was actually the first person ever to both notice and question the name of his shop. “I sometimes joke that it’s Newton,” he explained, gesturing to a plush-looking sofa in the back, “given how much time and effort he put into helping me build and stock dozens of shelves over the years. Officially, however, there _is_ no ‘and Co’. I honestly just thought it sounded more professional that way.”

Crowley’s shoulders were bouncing with mirth as his eyes wandered around the back room, which was a cozy spot in which hundreds of overflow books were infiltrating every spare surface. He settled down on one end of the sofa, doing his best to keep his limbs from doing their usual ridiculous sprawl in order to leave room for the alpha. “Well there’s no arguing that it’s not charming as sin,” he offered as he began digging in the white bag. He pulled out two styrofoam containers and placed them carefully on the coffee table. “Hope this holds up to your standards,” he joked, perhaps a little nervously. “It’s from a new place just up from the nursery. We can smell it when the wind is blowing the right way and I’ve caught Ana drooling a few times.”

They chuckled together at that, and with an encouraging wave from Crowley’s hand, Aziraphale pulled one of the containers toward himself and popped the lid. 

The tantalizing scents crashed over him like a tsunami. 

“Crepes!” he gasped, the word very nearly coming out as a groan of pleasure. The carefully-arranged stack of culinary delight was piled high with assorted berries and surrounded by four little tubs of different sauces - chocolate, strawberry, caramel, and a thick white substance that may or may not have been marshmallow fluff. “Oh, Crowley, these look positively _divine_!” Aziraphale had to consciously struggle to keep himself from drooling over the mixture of warm odors rising up from the feast before him. He was positively ravenous to dig in, but made himself look back up to offer Crowley a heartfelt grin. “However did you know that crepes are my favorite?”

The omega had removed his glasses upon entering the back room, so the alpha was able to watch as his golden eyes shifted from amusement, to confusion, to surprised glee. He let out a little huff of incredulity, looking for all the world like a man who’d just been told he’d won the lottery. “I had no idea! They just smelled so good, and the ‘Berry Blast’ option just kinda called out to me as something you’d enjoy, so…” He waved a hand as though to say, ‘And here we are’. 

Aziraphale’s heart hammered in his chest, tapping out a rapid message in Morse code. _Marry him. For the love of all that is good and holy, marry this man._

Aloud, and alongside a soft hum that just barely disguised a keen of pleasure, the alpha said, “My dear, I must admit that I am at a bit of a loss. You seem to know me so well already.”

Crowley’s face immediately paled, something like fear shining in his eyes. “I-is that, I mean-” he stumbled over himself in a way that Aziraphale found terribly endearing. “I-is that...okay?”

_Oh dear lord, he’s just so darling, I could absolutely die._

Heart fluttering wildly (and whispering further, less innocent messages at him), Aziraphale leaned in and reached to place a hand atop Crowley’s bouncing knee. His touch arrested the movement as surely as if he’d verbally commanded the omega to be still. “It is more than okay, my dear,” the alpha assured, careful to show his pleasure with each word. “I must say that I’m becoming rather fond of you, you see, and your thoughtfulness pleases me so. Thank you very much for the crepes, my darling.”

The moment the endearment left his lips he worried that it may have been too much, but the little strangled sound from Crowley and the way his pupils constantly dilated convinced the alpha that he’d rather hit the mark in a bullseye. 

“Ng-guh- I-” Crowley managed a nervous half-laugh before finally settling on a little wave of his hand toward Aziraphale’s open container. “Better eat ‘em before they get cold, don’t ya think?”

It was a very valid point, as Aziraphale would never be so uncouth as to allow a gifted meal to cool on him. However, he couldn’t resist one last soft, grateful look into those honey eyes before he turned to finally enjoy his meal. 

The alpha ripped open his disposable fork, gathered up a rather large chunk of crepe with a full strawberry atop it, gave the whole thing a quick dip in the chocolate sauce, and carefully slid the forkful past his lips- 

_Oh my!_ Completely against any semblance of conscious decision-making, Aziraphale let out a wanton moan as the combination of sweet flavors burst across his tongue. His eyes fluttered closed in order to better focus on the culinary composition, and he found himself devolving into a sigh of pleasure once he’d finally swallowed. “Oh, _Crowley_ , that is positively _decadent_ ,” he breathed, only then reopening his eyes.

The omega was staring, pupils blown so wide that the gold of his eyes was nearly devoured. His own styrofoam container was creaking dangerously as his fingers attempted to destroy it utterly. 

Aziraphale licked a little dribble of chocolate from the side of his fork and blinked innocently. “Are you quite alright, my dear?”

Crowley startled at being addressed and nodded a bit too enthusiastically before tearing the top away from his own container and forcing his gaze downward with what appeared to be quite a large effort.

Okay, so...Aziraphale wasn’t _entirely_ ignorant of what he was doing. He _was_ a bit of a bastard, after all, as they’d already established. But he just couldn’t help himself, you see. He had always been a bit exuberant when it came to food, and had garnered more than a handful of comments on that fact in his time, but seeing Crowley’s reactions at the restaurant...well, there had been something just _delicious_ about that, that he hadn’t been able to resist replicating.

They ate in (near-)silence for a short while, simply enjoying being in one another’s company, until Aziraphale audibly appreciated his final bite.

“My goodness, that was truly scrumptious, my dear,” he sighed happily. He smiled over at Crowley, who was still picking at his own crepes, but seemed to have calmed down considerably. “Honestly, I don’t believe I’ve had such excellent crepes outside of France. Please do give my compliments to the restaurant when you visit next.”

Crowley returned the alpha’s smile with one of his own, along with a little nibble of his lip ( _Lord Almighty…_ ). “Maybe-” he began, a little shyly. “Maybe next time we could visit together?”

_God, yes, I would go anywhere with you, my sweet, darling boy._

“I believe that I would thoroughly enjoy that, Crowley, dear.”

Crowley grinned in that beautiful way that was part bashful sweetheart, part pure pleasure. For a few lovely heartbeats he gazed at Aziraphale with such intense adoration that the alpha felt his entire body heating up under that scrutiny. Then, intriguingly, the omega’s cheek twitched, and suddenly he looked more disconcerted than desirous. 

The sudden shift bothered Aziraphale much more than it perhaps should have, his inner alpha growling at him to fix whatever had so unexpectedly broken. “Is...is something wrong, my dear?” he found himself stammering out hurriedly. 

As though he hadn’t realized the change in his own face, Crowley blinked and blushed and stuttered out a series of nonsensical sounds. It took a few moments for him to pull himself together, but after abandoning the remains of his lunch on the coffee table and clearing his throat twice, the omega seemed to come to some kind of decision. He gulped, wrung his hands for a moment, and finally turned back to Aziraphale with a nervous smile. “I, uh…” he began, cleared his throat once more, and began again. “I know I already said this the other day, but you...you really don’t have to wear those things around me if they bother you, you know…”

Aziraphale blinked, not immediately catching on, but a moment later he cringed internally, because not only had he been idly scratching at the scent patches on his neck throughout the entire meal without realize it, he was _doing it right at that moment_. He immediately slammed both his hands down to his lap and allowed himself an awkward, embarrassed chuckle. “Oh, well, yes, of course,” he murmured. “It’s just- I mean-”

In a move that seemed rife with nerves, Crowley scooted a little closer on the sofa and reached out to gently touch his fingers to the back of one of Aziraphale’s fidgeting hands. “I really appreciate the gesture, I do,” he insisted in a soft voice. “It’s honestly...it’s incredibly kind, really.” Golden eyes drifted down, focusing on the small expanse of skin that was in contact between them. “It’s just that...I know they’re incredibly uncomfortable, and you pick at them a lot more than you probably realize, and really, I promise that I can handle them not being there, and it’s honestly something that I should be getting used to anyway if we’re gonna be-” Here he stopped, flushed rather violently, and snatched his hand back to his own lap before flicking his gaze up at Aziraphale’s face with something like an apology on his own. 

The alpha, for his part, blinked back with wide eyes and a bit of a flutter in his chest. “I...yes, I suppose that makes sense…” he admitted, though he didn’t vocalize the rest of his thought, which boiled down to: _But I don’t know if I could handle knowing that you can’t stand the smell of me…_ “I’ll, um...perhaps...soon?” He wasn’t even entirely certain what he was asking, or suggesting, or whatever it was he was doing at the moment. 

Crowley met his eye, and as nervous as the omega seemed he also seemed to see something there and responded with a small nod. “Kay, yeah, sounds...kay,” he mumbled, then glanced at his watch and cringed. “I guess I should head on back before Ana has a fit,” he suggested, and was quiet while Aziraphale made an affirmative sound and followed him back to the front of the shop. 

Here the omega paused, hand on the doorknob, biting his lip again and seeming to consider something. This time, however, before Aziraphale could gently prod the information out of him, Crowley turned, cheeks pink and a shy kind of desire in his eyes. “Was wonderin’ if...if maybe…” He was fighting a losing battle with his eyes, which kept flicking down to Aziraphale’s mouth. “Could I maybe, possibly get a...a kiss goodbye?”

_Oh my dearheart, you are absolutely intent on inhabiting every inch of my soul, aren’t you?_

Despite the slight awkwardness of the past few minutes, Aziraphale reached up with a hand that was far steadier than his heart in order to tenderly pluck up Crowley’s chin and gaze into those meltingly beautiful eyes. There was so much swirling around in those eyes, so much to read and interpret… There was a playful, mischievous soul, far more kindness and caring than the omega might admit, and also something like fear, as though he was always standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the moment his tether was torn from him. 

Aziraphale wanted very much to _be_ that tether, and to never, ever, let his omega fall.

He leaned forward on his toes to close the small distance and height difference between them. He was immediately struck by a breathtaking wave of that intoxicating scent of Crowley’s; it very nearly pulled a groan of pleasure from the alpha. When they were close enough to share one another’s breath, Aziraphale said, quite softly, “Of course, my darling,” and then they were kissing.

It was as wonderful as the previous night, only somehow moreso. Aziraphale felt hyper-aware of every sense and sensation. He felt the warm puff of breath from Crowley’s nose, the vibrations caused by the little whimper from the omega’s throat, the almost imperceptible shift upward in body temperature. He could taste the lingering sweetness of berries on those soft, thin lips…

He wasn’t certain how long they stood there, leaning into one another, lips pressed together, but when they finally parted Crowley looked dazed, perhaps a bit drunk, which made an incredibly pleasant, squirming warmth dance through Aziraphale’s stomach. 

_Ask him to stay. Tell him you’ll handle Anathema. Keep the shop closed, draw all the shades. Tell him he can stay the night. Tell him that you want him, that you need him, that you’ll hold him, keep him warm and safe and happy and oh, so satisfied…_

_For fuck sakes, NO, you damned fool. Do it right, do it slow, show him that he deserves care and tenderness._

“Will you message me this evening?” Aziraphale asked, trying and failing to hide his own breathlessness, just as he was trying and failing to pull away from the omega. 

Crowley gazed at him for a few heartbeats, eyes unfocused. Eventually he nodded, slow and dreamy, with a dopey smile on his face. “Uh huh,” he sighed. “Course, angel.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure he could have beaten the smile from his own face had the fate of the world depended on it. “Until then, darling,” he supplied, and watched with affectionate amusement as the omega’s brain finally began to reboot itself. 

“Y-yeah,” Crowley stammered, lips twitching happily. “Y-yeah, later angel…” Then the hand that had been laying on the doorknob finally turned it, and a moment later he was gone, leaving an incredibly delightful waft of lilac in his wake. 

_Oh lord...he’s going to be the death of me, this one. But oh, what a glorious death._

* * *

The remainder of the day was pure torture for Crowley. Beautiful, agonizing torture. He’d been lucky enough to avoid any further needling from Anathema, as she was distracted with a large order of herbs that needed immediate filling, but that was a small mercy. His own imagination was an even more significant tormentor. As he flitted throughout the nursery, trying as hard as he could to keep his mind on work, he couldn’t seem to stop replaying his and Aziraphale’s second kiss over and over. It had been so bloody...tender. Sweet and gentle and lovely… And yet Crowley couldn’t help but feel as though there was something more there as well, something that the alpha had been holding back. He had wanted to beg the alpha to let it out, to completely _devour_ him if that was what he was desiring. 

Just as before, however, Aziraphale had been a complete gentleman, giving Crowley what he’d asked for and nothing more, then drawing away before things could get heated. 

It was _infuriatingly_ charming. 

Crowley had spent most of his adult life being all-but harassed by any number of prospective alpha suitors. They weren’t all bad, of course, but between the natural pushy confidence that most alphas seemed to have, combined with the way Crowley’s condition made being too physically close to an alpha - especially an aroused one - there had been no small number of bad moments. He’d been propositioned more times than he could count, catcalled on a regular basis, and treated like some kind of freak for pushing back, for wanting more from a possible mate than a wink and the promise of a half-decent lay. 

Ironic that the first alpha who had ever treated Crowley to tenderness and a bit of romance was also the first the omega he had ever desperately wanted to be _taken_ by. 

Spurred on by this particular thought, churned together with the memory of both of their kisses thus far, Crowley barely survived the rest of the work day without ducking into the gents for a quick-and-desperate release. 

By the time the omega kicked shut the door to his flat that evening he had reimagined the ‘goodbye kiss’ a thousand different ways, many of the retellings with significantly less clothing, and he was driving himself absolutely spare. He managed, through sheer force of will (and a terrified desire to not look too clingy) to throw himself in the shower and shove something easily-grabbale in his gullet before shooting off a text to Aziraphale.

**_Hey angel. Hope the rest of your day was nice._ **

The second he hit the ‘send’ button he began audibly berating himself. “ _Nice?_ ” he groaned toward one of his ficuses. “For fuck sake, Crowley, of all the bloody stupid, pathetic-” But before he could work himself into too much of a tizzy, his phone vibrated.

**_It was passable, my dear, though I’m certain it would have been much more enjoyable spent with you._ **

It was almost certainly a perfectly innocent statement, but it instantly sent Crowley’s mind into a spiral of less-than-innocent fantasies about exactly what kinds of ‘enjoyable’ things the two of them could have spent the afternoon doing. His hands, therefore, were shaking a bit as he plucked out a response.

**_Mine would have been better too, I’m sure_.**

His thumb hovered over the little digital keyboard for a couple of heartbeats, then he bit his lip and added a second message before he could talk himself out of it.

_**I’m gonna have pleasant dreams about that kiss tonight**. _

The frustratingly stupid, self-depreciating voice that lived in the back of his mind began immediately counting off the seconds it took Aziraphale to respond, panicking a bit more with each rapidly escalating heartbeat. That panic and that voice, however, were both drowned out by an overpowering purr from his omega brain when the following message came through.

**_Oh, I’m quite certain I will as well, darling. Have I told you how sinfully intoxicating your scent is, my dear?_ **

Crowley reread that message four times and felt a violent electric shock of pleasure go through his entire body each time. “F-fuck me-” he whined while grinding the heel of his palm against his rapidly-hardening cock. His inner omega was practically _panting_. “He likes my scent. The most handsome, kind, fucking _angelic_ alpha in the world thinks that I smell _intoxicating_.” He had to type out his next message one-handed because he was suddenly finding it impossible to stop touching himself. 

**_Christ, angel, you can’t just say things like that. You might outright kill me._ **

After a little beat of panic he hastily added a blushing emoji and a laughing emoji so Aziraphale wouldn’t think that he was seriously upset. He was then kicking his way out of his trousers as fast as he could, when the alpha’s next text pinged through. 

**_Oh my, well we wouldn’t want that now, would we darling? I must say that I rather like you the way you are. I would be quite put out if I was unable to bring you to the show I procured tickets for this evening._ **

The next few moments for Crowley were spent trying to convince his blood-deprived brain to unpack everything that was present in that message. Despite having had plenty of evidence practically shoved in his face already, he kept stumbling over phrases such as ‘rather like you’. That wasn’t even considering the use of the endearment ‘darling’ twice in as many messages. 

Once he managed to choke back the alarmingly high-pitched keening noise that was fighting its way out of him he forced himself to focus up a bit and address the second part of Aziraphale’s message. 

**_Hey, no fair angel! You took me to dinner. I should be treating you this time._ **

He had, in fact, already been researching available options for something that he could take Aziraphale to that the angelic bookseller would enjoy, but apparently he’d been beaten to the punch. How very terribly rude!

**_Have you already forgotten the positively scrumptious crepes you treated me with this afternoon, my dear? Besides, it pleases me to spoil you, darling. You deserve someone to spoil you, Crowley, and if it pleases you I would very much like to be that someone._ **

A truly distressing noise came from Crowley’s throat as he let himself fall backward onto his bed. He clasped his mobile to his chest for a moment, took a few slow, deep breaths, and then pulled it back in order to re-read the message. And then again. And again. With each re-reading he felt his core body temperature spike further. “...pleases me to spoil you…” he read aloud, voice cracking. “...deserve someone to… _fuck_ …”

He must not have realized how long he spent staring at those words, because another message came through before he got around to responding, and it seemed more than a little bit distressed. 

**_I apologize if I overstepped. I didn’t intend to imply that you require to be taken care of, or that you are incapable of taking care of yourself. I simply thought that perhaps a bit of proper affection and wooing may be something that you desired. I am quite sorry if I have made any foolish assumptions._ **

With his omega going into full-on hysterical breakdown mode, Crowley was unable to stop the whimper that crawled up out of his throat while he rushed to respond. 

**_No, no, angel, please, don’t apologize! I was just surprised is all, wasn’t sure what to say. Aside from Ana, who’s practically my sister, I’ve never had an alpha be so kind and indulgent with me. It’s a bit strange, but I promise I like it. It-_ **

He paused, swallowed, gnawed on his lip for a moment, and finally beat back his pride and dignity long enough to complete the painfully honest, vulnerable thought.

_**It makes me feel valued.** _

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” Crowley couldn’t remember ever laying himself bare like this before. What the literal hell was he doing? Surely such a pathetic, pitiful statement like that was three steps too far in one of the many wrong directions. Aziraphale was sure to read that text now and see the omega for the completely sad little creature he really was and go running the opposite way. Who needed to waste their time with someone so bloody needy and emotional and-?

Crowley’s phone vibrated. For a few slow, shaky breaths he refused to look at it, keeping his eyes squeezed shut until finally his morbid curiosity got the best of him. 

The words on the screen nearly caused him to cry out loud.

_**You are most certainly valued, my darling, I promise you that. I have never met anyone more perfectly delightful in every way. I truly hope that you will continue to allow me to show you how wonderful you are, dearest.** _

Not even under pain of death would Crowley ever admit to the treacherous tears that began streaming down his face as he struggled to get himself past the overwhelming flood of feelings that threatened to drown him in that moment. He might have taken a few minutes to get a hold of himself, but he didn’t want to take too long to respond to another of Aziraphale’s messages, so it was with hazy, watery vision that he forced himself through a reply. 

**_Don’t think I could ever deny you anything, angel._ **

Then, because he wasn’t sure that his poor heart could handle any more serious talk tonight, he added: **_So tell me about this show._ **


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale get closer...and closer yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Crowley didn’t get to see his angel the following day, which soon left him feeling cranky and morose, despite his best efforts not to slip into clingy-desperation territory. He had offered to bring lunch over to the bookshop again (that wasn’t too clingy, right?) but Aziraphale had politely declined while explaining that he was headed out of town for the day to an estate sale. The alpha was hoping to find a few rare volumes, and perhaps a few poorly-treated tomes in need of his delicate touch. Crowley had very nearly _leaped_ at the chance to ask the alpha (who didn’t drive and was therefore taking a bus to and from) if he needed a chauffeur. Before the words had managed to make it to his lips, however, he remembered the rather enormous and extravagant wedding order that he had to prepare for that weekend and was already behind on. So, reluctantly, the omega had resigned himself to being surrounded by baby’s breath and calla lilies instead of the warm, soothing presence of the most wonderful man he’d ever met.

And he was terribly unhappy about it. 

He spent the entire day daydreaming about soft lips exploring his own, warm, gentle fingers dancing through the sprigs of hair at the base of his neck, a brief gasp of hot breath against his skin as they drew apart… It was innocent enough, at first, but inevitably those thoughts evolved, drifting into much more ‘not safe for work’ territory. Crowley found himself wondering what it might feel like if Aziraphale threaded those thick fingers through his hair, fisted there, and gave a good, firm tug. That little fantasy moved into a larger one, of being pressed up against one of the bookshelves in the alpha’s shop. Before he could stop himself the omega was wondering whether Aziraphale would get just a little bit rough, perhaps lift Crowley’s arms up above his head and pin them there with a single hand, leaving the other free to work open the buttons of his shirt one by one while those lovely lips pressed claiming kisses all along his throat…

“Earth to Crowley!” a cheerful voice rammed straight through his imaginings. 

There was an extremely awkward moment during which Crowley performed a panicked juggling routine in order to save the bouquet he’d been working with. When his dignity had been thoroughly thrashed, but the bouquet carefully placed back down on his workstation, he looked up to set a grinning Anathema with a truly infuriated glare. “What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?” he growled.

Anathema looked like a cat swimming in cream. “It’s not ‘sneaking’ if you don’t notice me because you’re busy daydreaming like a lovesick teenager,” she countered. Then, before Crowley could dive back at her with what surely would have been a biting and clever comeback, she produced a large black takeaway cup with a red ribbon tied around it like a bow and thrust it toward him. “Special delivery for you, loverboy,” she teased with an enormous, shit-eating grin.

For a moment Crowley just stared at the cup, positively bewildered. Then he noticed the little card hanging from the ribbon and gently took the gift from Anathema’s hands so he could turn the card and read it. The words were written in Aziraphale’s distinctive calligraphy. 

_A little token of my affection. You mentioned getting tired in the afternoons, so I hope this helps make your day a little better. - A_

Crowley’s heart was lodged firmly in his throat. He cracked the cup and breathed in the hot scent of dark roast with two sugars...just how he liked it.

It was such a small, simple thing, but the little gift had Crowley’s entire body feeling as though it was floating. His past suitors - even the half-decent ones - had all focused their attentions on his body, his looks, his _genetics_ . He’d never had an alpha who was interested in him actually _listen_ , _remember_ things, and put genuine effort into being sweet and considerate. He could imagine Aziraphale popping into the cafe on the way to his bus stop, the little card already made out, placing a special delivery order and asking the barista to please be sure to remember to tie the card securely…

_You deserve someone to spoil you, Crowley…_

_You are most certainly valued, my darling…_

Crowley felt an intense warmth flowing through him that had absolutely nothing to do with the radiant heat of the coffee seeping through the takeaway cup. 

“He’s awfully sweet, isn’t he?” Anathema prompted, her voice much quieter and gentler now in the face of her friend’s emotional revelations.

No force in Heaven nor in Hell could have stopped the spread of the smile that appeared across Crowley’s face. 

“Yes...yes, he really is…”

* * *

That evening, after he’d driven half a takeaway pizza into himself, and was on his way out of the shower, Crowley heard a little ‘ping’ from his mobile and nearly tripped over himself diving for his discarded trousers in order to snatch it up. With one hand clutched tight at the towel around his hips and water dripping all over the bathroom floor from his sodden hair, he snatched up the phone and rapidly swiped open the message from the contact he’d listed as ‘Angel’.

**_Good evening, darling. I hope you had a lovely day. Did you receive your little surprise?_ **

Crowley couldn’t help but grin like a complete fool. He quickly tied his towel a little more securely, and tossed another on his head to soak up the majority of the wetness, before quickly typing out his reply. 

**_I did, and it was both delicious and effective. Almost made up for not getting to kiss you today. :) How was your estate sale?_ **

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek while rapidly rubbing at his hair to try and dry it quicker. He watched his phone with hawk eyes while he did so, and was very nearly embarrassed by himself when the next message to come through made him do a happy little bounce on the balls of his feet. 

_**If you are quite amenable, my dear, I shall be quite pleased to provide extra kisses during our date tomorrow to make up for the deficit.** _

_**The sale went quite well. I was able to win the bidding on several lovely pieces that were damaged enough to be of little interest to the other attendees. I shall be quite pleased to get the chance to restore them to their former glory and add them to my collection.** _

Crowley read the message thrice while making his way to his bedroom and rummaging through the closet without looking. He managed to find a pair of loose-fitting pajama bottoms by feel alone and pulled them on - forgoing pants - before hopping belly-down onto his bed to type out another message.

**_I’m glad you had a good time. I’d love a demonstration of your book-fixing skills one of these days. I bet you do amazing work._ **

_**I fully intend to take you up on that offer of extra kisses, angel. In fact, the more the better.** _

He tried very, very hard not to simply stare at his phone waiting for the next message to pop up, but keeping his eyes off the screen meant that his mind wandered. And now he was wondering what Aziraphale would look like while working on a book restoration. Would he roll up the sleeves of his light blue button-up? Would he wear soft linen gloves, perfectly fitted to his lovely, strong hands. Would he run those gentle fingers across the battered, broken tome, giving it the kind of intense, individual attention that a desire-ridden omega could only dream of?

“Fuck…” Crowley hissed at himself as he felt his body responding to his dangerous train of thought. “There’s a kink I’m gonna have to unpack later…” He pushed his face into his silky sheets and fought valiantly against the urge to grind down against his bed. 

**_I am not certain that would be a particularly interesting endeavour for you, darling, but I would be more than happy to indulge you if you would like._ **

**_Concerning kisses… Hmm...best not tempt me, my dear. Given carte blanche, it is entirely possibly that I may start kissing you and never stop._ **

Crowley’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he read those words. “S-shit!” he groaned, shoving his face back down into the sheets while his blasted hips twitched of their own accord. Now he was being positively overwhelmed by thoughts of Aziraphale pressing him down, holding him still, kissing him hard and fast and pulling away only to trail those kisses to other parts of his body. The omega couldn’t stop himself from keening into a pillow as his hips fought for friction, but he stubbornly kept both hands up on his phone, ready to respond to his alpha’s texts. 

**_You wouldn’t have to stop if you didn’t want to, angel. Told you before, didn’t I? Don’t think I could ever deny you anything._ **

There was a long moment during which Crowley bit into his pillow and ground into bed, imagining his angelic alpha telling him _precisely_ what he wanted, and then-

_**Oh my beautiful, temping, red-headed demon...someday soon I may very well test that theory.** _

Crowley’s body convulsed as he came with a surprised shout of pleasure, long fingers squeezing his mobile so tightly that the case creaked in protest. He twitched and jerked, moaning, making a terrible mess of his pajama bottoms, before eventually managing to catch his breath. He stared at Aziraphale’s message through hazy eyes, both shocked and satisfied. 

“Holy fuck, angel...you’ll be the death of me like that…”

**_I look forward to that day, Aziraphale, I truly, truly do._ **

* * *

Aziraphale read Crowley’s response and outright growled with desire. He’d second-guessed his ‘test that theory’ message the second it was too late to take it back, but then the omega’s answer had come through, and oh lord… It had certainly been a mistake engaging in this conversation while still downstairs tidying up the shop. He’d collapsed onto the back room’s sofa halfway through their undisguised flirting and was now palming himself through his trousers with a breathy groan on his lips. “God, the things you do to me, Crowley…” He chuckled to himself as he re-read their last few messages several times. “You make it terribly difficult to remain a gentleman, my darling.” 

When he’d taken a few deep, calming breaths and thought he had himself under control, he plucked out a safer message.

**_I should be off to bed for now, my dear, but I am quite excited for our date tomorrow. Shall I see you at closing time?_ **

While he waited for Crowley’s response he pushed himself up and quickly made his way upstairs to his flat, peeling away his bow-tie and unbuttoning his waistcoat as he went. 

**_I’ll be there with bells on, angel. Can’t wait to see you again._ **

Aziraphale smiled at that and felt the warmth that had been gathering in his gut begin to spread all throughout his extremities. It was seeming more and more likely that he would require a bit of ‘pressure relief’, as it were, before he would be capable of sleep. 

**_The feeling is mutual, I assure you. Good night darling._ **

Then he waited, patiently, refusing to place his mobile down on his bedside table until he got that last message that he was optimistically certain was coming. 

**_Goodnight, my angel._ **

It was a surprise - a very pleasant one - to see that little, conspicuous ‘my’ in front of the ‘angel’. Aziraphale sighed with what he suspected was a rapidly expanding romantic emotion, grinned like a besotted fool, and let himself fall down onto his bed with a heart just about as full as it could be.

* * *

Aziraphale couldn’t ever recall being so pleased.

Perhaps it was a bit foolish to allow himself to get so giddy after only a few dates, but as the alpha watched Crowley’s face light up while reading the marquee, he felt a warm, glowing sense of purpose that could not be denied. 

Crowley was clearly fighting a delighted grin, and not doing a very good job of it. “Are you sure?” he asked, a note of caution in his voice. “It’s just, I didn’t think you liked- I mean, I wouldn’t want you to spend the night bored out of your mind just because-”

Aziraphale calmed the omega’s nervous ramblings by snagging one of his hands and rubbing firm, warm circles in his palm with his thumbs. “Just because I prefer classical music does not mean that I am unable to enjoy more modern styles as well, my dear,” the alpha chuckled. “And besides, for your smile I would endure much, much worse.”

Crowley’s cheeks went a very fetching shade of pink which, Aziraphale would admit, was precisely the reaction he had been hoping for. With a beaming grin and his inner alpha praising him for doing well, he threaded his fingers with Crowley’s and pulled the omega into the venue.

Aziraphale had refused to reveal any information about the show he’d purchased tickets for because he had wanted it to be a surprise, and he most definitely hadn’t been disappointed with the results. Crowley was all teeth and wide, excited eyes as Aziraphale led him to their seats at the multi-artist Queen tribute concert. Once seated the omega fidgeted like a small child on Christmas Eve, wriggling and bouncing at the edge of his seat, clearly quite eager for the show to start. Aziraphale was thrilled. He had wanted to take the omega to something _fun_ that he would enjoy, and it seemed that he’d hit the mark with a perfect bullseye.

Even the instrumental-loving alpha had to admit that the music was quite enjoyable, but truly, it hardly mattered. He spent the entire concert with his gaze on Crowley, watching with undisguised pleasure as the omega grinned wide, singing along to every song without missing a beat. Aziraphale’s heart raced every time that toothy grin flashed in his direction. 

A sweet surprise came when one of the bands began playing “Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy” and Crowley turned to sing the entire thing directly to Aziraphale with an attractive flush across his nose. The little personal performance sent waves of heat spreading through the alpha’s entire body. 

By the time the concert was over, Aziraphale was practically glowing and would have happily skipped dinner in order to take his beautiful date back to the bookshop and show him exactly what his crooning had stirred within him…

Instead, determined to follow the night’s original plans, they grinned and laughed all the way to a nearby sushi restaurant, where Aziraphale learned that Crowley had never actually had sushi before. Thus began a night of playful flirtation as the alpha picked out choice morsels and fed them to the omega (who couldn’t quite get the hang of the chopsticks) while they both drank ridiculous quantities of sake. 

It was a wonderful night, which found Aziraphale feeling quite accomplished and pleased with himself for having given his omega a date to remember. 

They were both stumbling and hanging onto one another perhaps a bit more tightly than was appropriate for a public setting by the time they managed to make their way back to the bookshop. The moon and stars were shining above them (presumably, considering they could only see a few of them through the London fog and light pollution) and they were engaged in some confusing nonsense conversation involving dolphins as they poured through the shop’s door. 

It happened when Aziraphale tumbled a few feet into the shop, laughing and spouting some foolishness about the kraken. He turned in expectation of Crowley’s response and found the omega watching him, golden eyes shining with affection. 

He moved quickly, but his hands were extremely gentle, crowding Crowley up against the door to hold him and press their lips together. It was a bit more insistent than their previous kisses, a bit more desperate, a bit more _possessive_ , but the omega’s response was quite positive, so the alpha pressed on. When Aziraphale curiously probed his tongue against Crowley’s lips they immediately parted with a needy groan to give him access. Then they were tasting one another; hands in hair, on hips, rubbing, feeling, gripping tight. Aziraphale shifted so that his thigh pressed between Crowley’s lovely long legs and he felt a bulge through those tight trousers, a discovery which drew a deep growl from within the alpha’s chest. 

When he was eventually forced to surface for air, Aziraphale was met by the sight of honey-gold eyes blown wide and gazing back at him with undisguised lust. The words fell from him without hesitation: “My God you’re gorgeous.”

Crowley made a needy little sound that sparked every alpha instinct in Aziraphale’s body, and then he had his face pressed to the alpha’s shoulder, nuzzling up under his skin and against his throat, instinctively seeking out the scent gland even though he knew the patches hid it. “Nng...angel...please…” he murmured against the edge of Aziraphale’s collar, breath hot and heavy. “Please... _please_ …”

Aziraphale understood, even if his omega couldn’t quite get the words out, and he felt a conflicting wave of emotions crashing over him. Crowley’s omega instincts were urging him to scent and be scented, an instinct that was mirrored by Aziraphale’s own. He was almost burning with it, the need to strip back Crowley’s clothes, tear the patches from his neck, and rub his scent over every inch of skin he could reach. He was already drowning in the omega’s scent - that lovely floral scent steeped in a kind of heat, like smoldering firewood - and his alpha was practically roaring at him to reciprocate, to be able to smell his _own_ scent on the omega’s skin as well…

He was so desperate for this step, this connection that he was denying them both, that he almost didn’t notice when Crowley’s long, clever fingers began to work at the button of his trousers. A thrill of white-hot desire flared through him from head to toe at the touch. _Yessss_ … He wanted this so badly… _Needed_ it, even. He wanted Crowley on his knees before him, wanted to bend the omega over his writing desk, wanted to lay him down anywhere and everywhere and devour every last inch of him-

Crowley’s fingers had dipped beneath the waistband of Aziraphale’s pants by the time the alpha reached down to grab his wrist and stop him. The omega froze instantly, looking up with a mixture of confusion, hurt, and fear on his face. Aziraphale immediately wanted to kiss that look away, to press his beautiful, sweet, amazing omega against the wall and-

But _no_. Instead he took several deep breaths, willing himself to be calm. Then he lifted Crowley’s hand to his lips and pressed slow, tender kisses to each knuckle with a whisper of, “Not tonight, darling.” 

The sound that came from Crowley’s throat was a horrible, wounded thing, and oh, Aziraphale _loathed_ himself for being the cause of that sound. There must have been something of his own frustration in the alpha’s eyes, because Crowley immediately lowered his head and bit his lip, apparently doing his best to hold back any further whinges. 

“W-why not?” the omega asked instead, his quiet tone hiding the hint of a whine. “I want- And I thought you wanted-” His tongue flicked out for a moment, delicately licking at the taste of Aziraphale on his lips. “I- I want to _please_ you, my angel…”

Pure instinct had a greedy rumble working its way up through Aziraphale’s chest, his body twitching in Crowley’s direction, but he forced himself to breathe. He reached for Crowley’s free hand and brought them both to his chest, holding them firm over his heart so that the omega could feel it beating. “Oh, my darling,” he sighed. He could practically _hear_ the creature inside of him howling, _growling_ at him. “You have no idea, dearest, how desperate I want-” He had to stop to swallow and wet his lips, but quickly forced out the rest of his thought before he could talk himself out of his decision. “We’re drunk, Crowley, and I don’t want that for our first… You deserve so much better than that, darling.”

Crowley _pouted_ , a look that was so adorable on the omega that Aziraphale had to bite the inside of his cheek against the onslaught. “What if I don’t _want_ better?” he sulked, leaning forward to nuzzle against Aziraphale’s throat. 

The alpha managed a mostly-steady chuckle. “I understand, believe me,” he murmured before placing several more soft kisses against the backs of Crowley’s hands. “But if we’re going to move on to this step I want it to be a night to remember, not one to blunder through and have only vague, hazy memories of in the morning.” 

Crowley huffed. This, too, was adorable. “Y’don’t sound tha’ drunk,” he pouted. 

Aziraphale laughed a little more heartily now that the urges to _take_ and _have_ and _claim_ had been temporarily abated. “Come, darling,” he sighed, doing his best to hide the disappointment in his own voice. “I think it may be best if we part for tonight.”

Crowley fussed, but he quietly followed the alpha outside, where they hailed a cab. Aziraphale held the door open and, though he seemed extremely reluctant, Crowley eased himself into a seat before leaning up to silently beg for another kiss. Aziraphale complied without question and hoped that - without his scent to help carry his feelings to the omega - he was conveying his deep affection through their touch. 

Before he pulled away, Aziraphale smiled and gave Crowley’s hand a squeeze. “The day after tomorrow there is an outdoor food festival in the park. Newton and Anathema will be attending, and I have two tickets as well. Would you do me the honor, darling?”

There wasn’t so much as a breath of time passing before the omega was answering. “I’d love to, angel,” Crowley breathed. Then, as a second-thought, he added, “Just as long as we don’t get drunk there.”

Aziraphale laughed, delighted, at the glimmer of mischievousness in his omega’s eye. He leaned in for another quick, indulgent kiss. “We have a deal, my dear.”

Despite his previous protests, Crowley grinned. “Great...good...I’ll, uh- I’ll text you when I get home then.”

“You’d better,” Aziraphale teased. He finally shut the cab door and gave a little wave to the driver. He watched, refusing to turn away, while the vehicle pulled away and disappeared down the road. 

“Soon, my dearest,” he sighed to himself. “Very soon.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group attends the Food Festival, but it's very unfortunate timing for Crowley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

The day following the tribute concert Crowley was  _ exceptionally  _ cranky. 

It wasn’t that he was upset with Aziraphale or anything so foolish as that; quite the opposite, in fact. Despite his frustrated arousal upon leaving the bookshop, the omega found it genuinely sweet and romantic that the alpha didn’t want their first time  _ together _ to be a drunken mess. Regardless of that, however, Crowley had obviously not been particularly pleased to go home alone and resort to a disappointed wank in a cold bed. 

And on top of  _ that _ , he wasn’t going to get a chance to see his angel today because he was going to be working late to deal with a very large corporate landscaping contract that was very important to  _ Eden _ ’s profit margin. 

Anathema, of course, was being extra troublesome about the whole situation.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked carefully, at first. Then, a bit later, and a bit more suggestively, “How did the date go last night?” Crowley responded with soft grunts and non-committal shrugs for a while until, eventually, the alpha’s big-sister-brain kicked in and she trapped the omega in a corner to quietly growl at him out of sight of any customers. “Did he do something to you?” she snarled under her breath, rage in her eyes. “Did he  _ hurt  _ you? Because I’ll fucking kill him, Crowley, you know I will!”

“Jesus Christ, Anathema, no!” Crowley hissed, slamming on the breaks and shifting into reverse as quickly as possible. As a secondary measure he wrapped his arms around his friend and pressed his scent to her to calm her protective instincts. “No, no, no…” he murmured, drawing back to meet her concerned, troubled eyes with a forced smile. “The date was  _ perfect _ , really.  _ Aziraphale  _ is perfect. He took me to a Queen tribute and fed me sushi, and he treats me like I’m something precious. I have honestly never been so bloody happy in my life, so please,  _ please _ don’t kill him, okay?”

Anathema’s stern face softened as Crowley spoke, her happiness for him evident in her eyes, but she still looked confused and concerned. “Then why all the shrugging and snarling today?” she asked. 

Crowley averted his gaze and sneakily managed to ease his way off the wall, heading as casually as he could manage back toward the plants he’d been pruning. “Oh, it’s, uh...it’s nothing, really,” he mumbled, already feeling the heat of embarrassment crawling up the back of his neck. 

There was silence long enough that Crowley thought Anathema actually may have accepted his non-answer and left, but then a shadow cast over the hastas he was standing over. “You know you can talk to me, Ant,” she said quietly, using a childhood nickname he’d always growled about but secretly adored. “You don’t have to, obviously, but you know I’m always here, right?”

Crowley groaned and gnawed his lip, and then he did the worst thing he possibly could have done: he peeked up and met Anathema’s eye. The brat was looking at him with those sad puppy-dog eyes; the ones that she’d learned early on made him feel like enough of an ass to confess whatever was on his mind. 

“Goddamn it,” the omega huffed, tossing his pruning shears on a nearby shelf. “It’s...it’s  _ stupid _ ,” he growled disdainfully. “Soooo...after the concert and the restaurant we went back to the bookshop, and we’d drunk quite a lot, and things started to get, er…” He trailed off, rolling a hand through the air in that ‘you know what I’m saying’ kind of way. 

Anathema’s grin was stupidly wide. “Amorous?” she suggested, not in a teasing way  _ at all _ . 

Crowley glared, cleared his throat, and turned away in an attempt to hide the fresh rising of color to his cheeks. “Er...yeah, let’s go ahead with that,” he agreed. “Anyway, uh...I thought things were going pretty well, and he definitely seemed like he was enjoying himself too, but then-” He paused, frowned, and looked at his friend from out of the corner of his eye. “-he stopped me.”

Anathema, who had clearly been wondering how this story was going to ultimately result in the cranky mood the omega had been exhibiting, raised an eyebrow. “He... _ stopped _ you?” she repeated. 

Crowley sniffed, turned away again, and made a rough affirmative sound. “He said he didn’t want our first time to be while we were both drunk,” explained. “Said...said I deserved better than that.”

When he eventually turned to face the silence that followed, Crowley found that Anathema’s face had softened into something truly kind and pleased. “Oh, Crowley, that’s...that’s so  _ sweet _ of him!” she exclaimed. One of her hands had found its way to her chest, hovering over her heart as though she had never heard anything so wonderfully romantic in all her life. “I mean, I guess I’m just  _ more  _ confused now, though. Why are you so upset over what was clearly meant as a chivalrous and respectful gesture?”

Crowley frowned and shuffled his feet, glaring down at them as though they held some explanation for his behavior that even he didn’t understand. “I dunno,” he muttered, partially to himself. “It’s a _good_ thing, it really is, and I appreciate how  _ good _ he’s being about everything, but there was just something about…” He trailed off as he recalled how warm the alpha’s body had been, how lovely the look in his eyes, how delicious the taste of his mouth, how- 

“Oh-” Crowley said; a small sound of realization. He looked up and met Anathema’s eyes as she blinked back at him with a little frown on her face. “His scent...or, I mean...the lack of it…”

Anathema wrinkled her nose, thinking, trying her best to hook onto Crowley’s thought process. “Lack of…? Yeah, he’s been wearing patches when you’re around, right?”

For a moment Crowley simply nodded, silent. Then, as though some hidden dam inside him had decided to burst, the words came pouring out of him: “I scented him! I didn’t even think about it! It was pure instinct! But he- He couldn’t do it back, could he? I think...I think he may have wanted to, but- Fuck, what must he have been thinking? One of the most bloody intimate things two people can share, and he couldn’t fucking do it because of my stupid fucking-” His voice cracked. He was horrified to realize that his eyes had gotten a little wet. “What if he-  _ Fuck _ , Anathema, what if he can’t deal with it? What if he realizes he can’t handle that sacrifice? Or what if he decides to stop wearing the patches after all and  _ I  _ can’t handle it? What if I-?”

His voice had cracked a second time, and in that brief moment of pause Anathema surged forward to wrap her arms around him and squeeze him tight while he hyperventilated. “Shhhh…” she hushed him. “Breathe, Ant, just breathe. I understand, I do...but if you two truly care about one another, you’ll figure it out, somehow.” She paused to squeeze him just a bit tighter before adding, “Do you believe me?”

Crowley breathed. It was difficult. It had been a long time since he’d really considered his condition in terms of how it affected a relationship because it had been a long time since he’d _been_ in one, and even longer since he’d been in one with an alpha. And that one hadn’t lasted long...not once it became clear that sexual intimacy wasn’t something the omega could handle without plugging his bloody nose…

_ No _ . No… He mentally shook himself and squeezed his eyes tight, willing the wetness away. Anathema was right. If Aziraphale truly cared for him - and  _ God _ ...did he hope that he did… - they would figure something out. Somehow.

Crowley let out a deep, shuddering sigh and nodded. Only then did Anathema loosen her grip on him and lean back to look into his eyes. “Better?” she asked, and he nodded again. 

“Better,” he admitted. 

Anathema considered him for a long few moments before finally letting go entirely. She gave him a short squeeze on the shoulder. “I know it’s scary,” she told him, letting a faint smile creep onto her face, “but I really do think that Aziraphale putting things on hold last night is a very good sign. It means he cares about you enough to put baser desires aside, which could mean that he sees you as someone to hold on to. Don’t you think?”

The alpha’s words made a hopeful warmth appear in Crowley’s chest, spreading cautiously outward as he imagined the possibility of  _ life _ with Aziraphale. It was surely far too soon to be thinking about such things, but the omega couldn’t help it. 

After all, a man could dream.

* * *

Aziraphale was just a  _ little  _ bit disconcerted by the way Anathema kept grinning at him. 

Since they were all going to the festival, the two pairs had agreed that it made sense to travel together, and it had therefore been established that Crowley would pick the remaining three up at Aziraphale’s bookshop that evening. Newton had shown up first, followed soon after by Anathema. Currently the three of them were simply waiting on Crowley to arrive, and for the past fifteen minutes whenever Aziraphale glanced Anathema’s way it was to find her grinning at him unabashedly. It was beginning to be a little bit disturbing. He was, therefore, even more pleased than he may have otherwise been when a shining black Bentley pulled up outside his shop. 

“Ready to go, team?” the omega asked from the side of his vehicle as they all poured outside. 

Anathema and Newt made sounds of affirmation, but Aziraphale froze, thoroughly distracted. Crowley looked...oh lord, he looked delicious. He was wearing sinfully tight black trousers and a pure white button-up Henley with the top two buttons left undone. His crimson waves were pulled back into a loose ponytail that trailed down between his shoulders, and he had forgone his glasses, allowing the low sun to glimmer in his eyes, causing them to almost  _ glow _ . 

He was temptation incarnate, and Aziraphale wanted quite desperately to sin.

“Alright there, angel?”

Aziraphale blinked foolishly, only to realize that Crowley had been holding the passenger side door open for him with a sly smile. The alpha cleared his throat, reached up with both hands to adjust his bow-tie, and strode forward with his head held high. Before taking his seat, however, he snatched the collar of Crowley’s shirt, pulled him forward with a little huff, and pressed their lips together in a firm, slightly-possessive kiss. When he pulled away the omega looked thoroughly dishevelled, precisely as Aziraphale had intended. “I’m quite pleased that you agreed to join me tonight, darling,” he purred, and finally slid into his seat. 

Just how long it took Crowley to close the door and walk around the car to take his own place in the driver’s seat was quite telling. By the time he finally made it behind the wheel Anathema was snickering in the back seat and Newt was hiding a smile behind his hand. 

They arrived at the park without incident, despite Crowley’s best efforts to, apparently, give Aziraphale heart failure with his lead foot. The alpha was actually seriously considering a firm verbal scolding once he felt safe to speak again, but then he caught sight of the sea of multi-colored awnings and Crowley was saved by one of the only things that could properly distract Aziraphale.

The alpha was in  _ heaven _ . The park had been decked out with dozens and dozens of tented stalls boasting a truly extraordinary variety of edible delights. There were stalls from famous restaurants and little mom-and-pop operations, culinary students showing off their skills and groups of family and friends sharing old favorite recipes. There were cured meats and aged cheeses, all manner of baked goods, authentic foreign delicacies, fried indulgences, samples of any number of alcoholic beverages, and so, so much more. For someone like Aziraphale, who did little to hide his deep appreciation for the pleasures that food could provide, it was like a beautiful dream. 

But the best part - the part that really made the whole thing absolutely perfect - was the fact that Crowley was by his side, sharing it with him. When he took the omega’s hand to lead him over to a kebab stand, Crowley’s face lit up like a star in the darkness. When he offered his specialty ice cream for Crowley to take a taste, the omega blushed a pretty pink before taking an adorably tiny lick. When they happened upon a stand run by the same restaurant where Crowley had previously purchased those delectable crepes, the omega had insisted on waiting in line so that the alpha could rest his legs on a nearby bench. Newt joined Crowley in line, chatting in that amusingly anxious way of his, so Aziraphale found himself sitting companionably with Anathema while they both watched the omegas joke and laugh about something. 

“He’s  _ very _ fond of you, you know,” Anathema said after a few quiet minutes. There was a sly smile on her face. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite so gone on someone before.”

Aziraphale could in no way help the way those words caused a pleased warmth to rise to his cheeks. “Well, I must say that I am rather...um, ‘gone’ on him as well,” he admitted while failing to hide a grin. “I...well, it’s quite a silly notion of course, but I feel rather lost whenever we part, as though he were taking with him my ability to function properly.” He flushed a deep red when he realized he’d expressed this thought aloud, but Anathema only gave him a quiet, approving smile. 

Crowley and Newt appeared with crepes, stuffed with berries and whipped cream, and for a short time Aziraphale’s mouth was busy while his brain continued to consider the words that had passed his own lips, unbidden. 

Once their berry-filled treats had been devoured, the two couples decided to part for a while with a loose plan to meet up again in an hour. So, as the sun dipped lower in the sky and the strings of lights all throughout the park began to light up, Aziraphale and Crowley strolled casually, hand in hand, through a veritable sea of delicious possibilities. 

It was a positively perfect evening, so of course it couldn’t last. 

Aziraphale was turning to offer Crowley a bite of the strawberry crisp square he’d been sampling when he first noticed that the omega was flushed and seemed to be squirming a little, as though he was uncomfortable. “My dear, are you feeling well?” the alpha inquired. “You look a tad warm.”

Crowley startled a bit, as though he’d been off in his own little world, but quickly forced a smile on his face. “Must be that five-alarm chili we tried,” he insisted, waving off Aziraphale’s concern. 

With a frown on his face, Aziraphale moved closer and lifted a hand to Crowley’s cheek. “Oh!” he exclaimed immediately. “Darling, you’re burning up! Are you sure you-” That was when the scent hit him and his eyes blew wide open, even as his pulse began to race in response. It was the wonderful, fresh garden scent that Crowley always had, but there was something else, something...more...something hot and smokey, like a burning bonfire two degrees from raging out of control. It filled the alpha with an almost overwhelming sense of desire that hit him like a fist to his gut. “Oh dear,” he murmured, doing his best to continue breathing through his mouth instead of his nose. “Crowley, I think you may be-”

Crowley seemed to come to the same conclusion all at once. His face had dropped, and was currently oscillating between the possibility of a furious outburst or a devolution into sobs. “It- It  _ can’t _ be,” he argued uselessly. “Not already! It’s only been a couple of weeks! It can’t- I- I-”

He was spiralling rapidly, which Aziraphale simply couldn’t allow. With soft, calming words he gently pulled the omega to a quiet bench some distance away from the revelries and insisted that he sit. A firm hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles with a strong thumb, had Crowley’s breathing coming a little slower, though he still looked distraught.

“I-I’m so sorry, angel,” he groaned, clearly struggling to keep his voice even. “This is-  _ Fuck _ . You should go back to the festival, and I’ll- I’ll text you when I get back to my flat, and-”

Aziraphale lifted a finger and pressed it against Crowley’s lips, a silent command. When he spoke his tone was gentle, but sturdy. “Firstly, I will not have you apologizing to me for something that is in no way your fault. You cannot control your situation, and I understand that perfectly well.” The alpha took a deep breath through his mouth and let it out slowly before continuing. “Secondly, I will most certainly  _ not  _ be returning to the festival. You are in no fit state to drive, so I insist on seeing you safely home.”

Crowley stared up at Aziraphale with a look like a scolded puppy. “B-but- You don’t have to-” He swallowed hard to fight back the mix of emotions that were struggling to burst out of him. “I can take care of myself… I- I know how excited you were for-”

“Shush, dearest,” Aziraphale admonished with a soft smile. He ran his fingers around to the back of Crowley’s neck, attempting to sooth him with warm caresses. “You are  _ much _ more important to me than a silly festival.”

For a long moment Crowley simply stared, golden eyes wide, lips slightly parted, the combination of emotions on his face far too complicated to translate easily. Eventually, however, he cracked a small, tentative smile. “R-really?” he asked, his voice betraying genuine disbelief. 

“Of  _ course _ ,” Aziraphale replied, and leaned in to give the omega a soft, sweet kiss. 

Crowley shuddered at the show of affection, and the smoky heat of his scent grew stronger. The fresh wave of it made it difficult for Aziraphale to breath, even more difficult to think, but he somehow managed to force himself back away and lifted a hand, palm up. “Give me the Bentley’s key,” he instructed, rightly guessing that the omega wouldn’t want to leave his precious car outside the park all night. “I’ll give it to Anathema and let her and Newt know that we’re leaving, and then I’ll call us a cab.”

Crowley, somewhat surprisingly, didn’t argue for even a moment. He handed over the key and pulled his feet up onto the bench so that he could wrap his arms around his knees. “Be quick?” he asked in a voice that was more than a little bit pleading. “It’s coming on pretty fast.”

Aziraphale accepted the key and leaned in for another quick kiss before standing up straight. “Quick as a bunny,” he promised. “It will all be just fine, darling.”

Then he was off at a clip, anxious to get Crowley - and the agonizingly sensuous scent of his oncoming heat - out of public as soon as he could. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance run-in at the worst possible time...  
> ...and an example of an avenging alpha's strength.
> 
> ***Slight CW in this chapter for implied intent to rape. NOTHING HAPPENS, but a comment from a lovely reader made me realize that it should be mentioned. 😙💕

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Crowley stuck his head between his knees and took several slow, deep breaths while simultaneously cursing his rotten luck. He’d been having such a good time with Aziraphale at the festival. It wasn’t exactly his kind of event, but the alpha had been in his element, having a blast, and his enjoyment made little tendrils of pleasure wind their way around the omega’s heart. So of  _ course _ his cursed, blasted body had to go and fuck it all up with the second heat this goddamned  _ month _ . 

For what felt like the thousandth time or more, Crowley bemoaned whatever the hell he’d done in a past life to convince God that he deserved such a cruel genetic quirk. Why couldn’t he just be allowed to take suppressants like any other bloody omega? Or, barring that, why couldn’t his heats come at some kind of a logical rate, instead of seemingly closer and closer to each other as he got older? Why couldn’t he-?

“Hmm...well, well, what have we here?”

Crowley’s head popped up, his eyes wide, heart leaping into his throat. That voice…

Once he had been alerted to their presence it was hard to believe that he’d been distracted enough by his own self-pity to miss their approaching scents. 

There were three of them. One had dark hair, dark skin, and a long, dark coat. The second was pale, with dirty blond hair, and dressed in grey. The third - the one who had spoken - was tall and handsome, with tanned skin and raven-black hair, and was instantly recognizable as the customer Crowley had scratched what felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Piss off,” Crowley tried to snarl, and cringed when it came out as more of a whimper. 

The raven-haired alpha raised an eyebrow and drew closer, leaning in over Crowley as though to hide him from the rest of the world. The very telling grin never left his face. “Now that’s not very nice,” he bemoaned, teasing in an unkind way. “And here I was, about to put our past behind us and offer my assistance with your...predicament.” 

Another omega may have been sorely tempted. The man was extremely handsome, fit, and had a threatening kind of charm about him that may have had another omega drawn instinctively to him. 

For Crowley, however, both the thought and the scent that was now overwhelming him, was absolutely repulsive. He felt like vomiting at the alpha’s closeness, surrounded as he was by the smell of rotten fish. The presence of the man’s two friends wasn’t helping either: they were both omegas, but had a musk that suggested they hadn’t bathed in weeks. 

“I said piss off, pal,” Crowley tried again, refusing to meet the alpha’s eyes. His fingernails dug into his own arms as he did his very best not to let on how terrified he was. He could be cocky sometimes, there was no doubt; but this wasn’t defending himself against an asshole while in his own shop with his partner nearby. This was being ganged up on by three men who were all larger and stronger than him while he was all alone and rapidly feeling the effects of his oncoming heat. 

“You know, I don’t think you really mean that,” the alpha hummed as he leaned even closer, bracketing Crowley between his arms. “I think you just like playing hard to get, don’t you, sweetheart…?” He pressed forward and took a long, deep draw of breath against Crowley’s hair, making the omega shudder with discomfort. “ _ Fuck _ , you smell good enough to eat…”

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-  _

Crowley was beginning to panic now. He desperately wanted to wriggle free and make a run for it, but the two lackeys smirking nearby would certainly grab him if the alpha didn’t. He could probably scratch one of the alpha’s eyes out right now, but again, the two fragrant omegas were right there. He supposed he could yell for help-

But the thought had barely crossed his mind when the black-haired alpha wrapped a hand around Crowley’s thigh and squeezed just hard enough to show what he could do if he so chose. “Ah ah ah,” he scolded with a positively disgusting grin. “We’ll have none of that now, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want to have to rip your pretty tongue out, now would we?”

Crowley’s eyes went wide, but his lips also clamped shut. He realized, all at once with the whiff of whiskey that puffed from his breath, that this man had been drinking heavily, and clearly gave less than a fuck about consequences at the moment. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen, sweet thing,” the alpha growled, white teeth shining in the deepening dark. “You’re gonna come home with me, and we’re gonna have a good time together. And if you’re a  _ very  _ good boy, maybe I’ll even bite that pretty throat of yours and keep you…”

Crowley felt all the blood drain out of his face. Surely he...no…  _ No! _ The  _ laws _ , and-

But he could tell, he could just  _ tell _ that this man couldn’t care less about laws, couldn’t care less about societal rules, or the fact that Crowley clearly  _ didn’t want him _ . 

The omega shook his head emphatically, but then the hand on his leg was on his face instead, covering his mouth and squeezing hard enough to hurt. Tears sprang to Crowley’s eyes and a whimper crawled up his throat. 

“Oh, did you think that I was going to give you a choice, sweetheart?” the alpha laughed with a dark spark in his eyes. He licked his lips slowly, his sickening scent intensifying, and growled low and deep, “Don’t worry, gorgeous, I  _ like _ you, so I’m gonna fuck you  _ real good _ .”

Tears pricked and fell over from the corners of Crowley’s eyes. Behind the alpha his two lackeys snickered cruelly. 

As the alpha slipped an arm around Crowley’s shoulders, careful to keep his other hand clamped on the omega’s mouth in case he thought to scream, a thousand thoughts went through his mind. He wondered whether he was going to be held captive, or whether the alpha figured a claiming bite would keep him complacent for the shame alone. He wondered whether the alpha would give his smirking friends a go with him once he was done. He wondered if this evil fucking man was capable of simply dumping him in the ocean once this was all over. But mostly, he wondered whether Aziraphale, and his friends, would even look for him, or if they would simply assume he’d gone home to deal with his damned condition, never knowing what had truly happened to him…

His vision had gone hazy with half-shed tears when a familiar voice - strange because of the rage vibrating through it - spoke from behind the trio of strangers. 

“Release him immediately.”

As one, the three strangers turned, and from over the alpha’s shoulder Crowley nearly wailed to see Aziraphale standing there, his ice blue eyes shining with anger. 

The black-haired alpha sniffed, grinned, and barked an order of, “Keep an eye on my prize,” before pushing Crowley unceremoniously back down to the bench and stepping forward to assess the threat. With his mouth finally free Crowley wanted to scream, to shout at Aziraphale to go, run, find help, but somehow he just couldn’t manage it. His throat was dry and there was a sharp pain behind his collarbone. His whole body felt frozen and inoperable in the presence of the white-hot fury that was flashing in Aziraphale’s eyes. 

“Oh dear, I’m  _ so _ sorry!” the black-haired alpha drawled, mocking. “Is this one yours? Silly me, I didn’t smell another alpha on him or see any marks.” He grinned wide, showing his teeth. 

The calm with which Aziraphale responded was far more terrifying than if he had lashed out physically. “He belongs to no one but whom he chooses,” the blue-eyed blond said with a quiet intensity. “And it seems  _ quite  _ clear that he does  _ not  _ choose you.”

The bark of laughter that came from the black-haired alpha was loud and raucous, unconcerned in every conceivable way. “Ah, so you’re one of those politically correct fuckers,” he guffawed, lip curled up in a half-snarl. “Is that why you wear those patches?” he asked, gesturing at the white square peeking out from beneath Aziraphale’s collar. “So he can’t smell the  _ want _ off you? Admit it, Mr Waistcoat, he’s a pretty prize and you want him just as much as I do. In fact-” His smile was cruel and lecherous. “-I bet you’d fuck him right here on this bench if there was no chance of being caught.”

Aziraphale’s lip twitched and something other than anger flashed across his face. At his sides, porcelain hands had balled into tight, discreetly shaking fists. “Some of us are better than our baser urges,” he said, simply. 

That only made the black-haired alpha laugh even harder. He sounded, in Crowley’s opinion, like a complete lunatic. “I’ll tell you what, Waistcoat!” he offered, far too jovially to be trusted, “I’ll  _ fight _ you for him!”

There wasn’t even the briefest hesitation in Aziraphale’s stoic response: “You’ll lose.”

Crowley’s heart was attempting to crawl it’s way out of him through his throat. His inner omega was whining desperately in fear and frustration. He couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let Aziraphale get hurt for him like this. He had to do something,  _ anything _ , whatever it took to get his angel out of this situation. So he stood, and he just managed to get, “Angel, no, don’t-!” out before two sets of grimy omega hands shoved him back down to the bench. 

Aziraphale’s gaze flicked to meet Crowley’s as the omega’s arse collided with the bench, and in that brief moment of distraction the black-haired alpha lunged forward with a vicious roar. 

Tears rolling down his face, Crowley cried out-

-and barely three seconds later found himself staring silently in wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock. 

Everything had happened so fast that Crowley couldn’t be certain he’d actually even seen it. All he knew for sure was that the black-haired alpha had thrown a fist, which Aziraphale had avoided with the slightest shift, and then in the following heartbeat there was a sickening crack met by a howl of pain. The scene that remained was of the attacker being held face-first into the grass with one of Aziraphale’s perfectly-shined loafers on the back of his neck and a clearly broken arm being held aloft in Aziraphale’s iron grip. 

The two omega lackeys - who seemed as shocked by this development as Crowley - moved as though to rush forward, only to stop dead when Aziraphale let out a threatening growl and pushed down harder on his captive’s neck. 

Crowley stared, jaw hanging, a veritable cavalcade of emotions jockeying for control of his body. He’d known, of course, that Aziraphale was  _ strong _ , but he’d never imagined-

“Crowley, darling?” his avenging angel asked in a perfectly calm, sweet voice. “Did any of them hurt you?”

It was nearly impossible to locate enough moisture with which to convince his mouth or throat to accomplish sound. Never mind the fact that his thought processes had shut firmly down in an attempt to compute what, precisely, had just occurred. “N-no…” he just barely managed after a few emotional heartbeats. He thought of the way the black-haired alpha had squeezed his face, but that temporary flare of pain had already gone, drowned by the endorphins racing through his body. “No, I’m okay…”

The voice that had been so gentle while addressing Crowley became ice cold and terrifying when turned back upon the trio of his attackers. “Congratulations,” Aziraphale growled while tugging the other alpha’s arm just enough to make him squeal. “I guess you get to  _ live _ .”

_ Fuck me… _ Crowley thought as he watched the exchange with wide, unblinking eyes.  _ I’ve never been so fucking turned on in all my life _ . 

So engrossed was he in the way Aziraphale was holding the black-haired alpha with little-to-no effort, that Crowley hadn’t even noticed a crowd of people slowly gathering around the scene. Two police officers appeared, shouldering their way through and followed closely by a teenager waving a mobile phone. The teen was declaring that he had proof that ‘the white-haired dude’ had only acted in self-defense. A few other onlookers spoke up as well, offering their eye-witness accounts of what they’d seen of the altercation. 

Crowley slowly became aware of a great deal of talking, murmuring, questions being asked, and information being relayed, but he didn’t really hear any of it. He had eyes only for Aziraphale. He watched as his knight in shining tartan released the now-weeping black-haired man and calmly answered each of the police officers’ questions. He kept waiting for Aziraphale to turn his way, to meet his gaze, but the alpha was fully focused on the officer with whom he was speaking. 

At some point the other officer - a pretty blond woman with kind eyes - crouched down in front of Crowley, blocking his view and effectively demanding his attention. “Mr Fell is requesting permission to escort you home,” she explained in a gentle voice. “But we can take you in the cruiser if you’d prefer; if it would make you feel safer.” 

Crowley appreciated her concern, he truly did, but he almost had to laugh outright at the offer. Instead he allowed a small smile to crack across his face and told her, “I’d rather he take me, if that’s okay. I couldn’t possibly feel any safer than I do when I’m with him.”

The officer returned his smile, nodded, and stood to return to where her partner had been keeping a careful eye on Aziraphale, who looked a bit nervous now. There was a short conversation, and then both officers moved to deal with the trio - who had been surrounded by the concerned citizens and dared not attempt to flee. Aziraphale was left alone, head lowered, looking back at Crowley with something in his eyes that the omega couldn’t quite read. 

The alpha approached slowly, carefully, as though concerned Crowley might make a run for it if he were approached too quickly. He was wringing his hands in front of his belly as he walked, and stopped a good three feet away, staring down at Crowley’s feet.

“I’m-” The word cracked. He paused, swallowed, and tried again. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through all that, Crowley. I...I never should have left you alone in your state and I-” His angelic face crumpled as he spoke. “Oh, dear, you must think me a ghastly brute after that horrid display-”

It was entirely possible that Aziraphale, in his clearly emotional state, may have gone on all night, but Crowley put a very decisive stop to that possibility by leaping to his feet, striding forward without hesitation, and throwing his arms around his alpha’s body. He captured the surprised angel’s mouth in a kiss that was just a hair too passionate for public decency. 

“Angel,” the omega sighed, pulling back only as far as necessary to look into Aziraphale’s blissfully dazed eyes. “You couldn’t have possibly known that something like this would happen in the few minutes you were gone. And besides-” He bit his lip and had to use every ounce of willpower he contained to stop himself grinding against the alpha right here in front of everyone. “-that rescue was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide, pupils blown, and there was no denying the  _ want  _ in them. He lifted a hand to brush the tips of his fingers against Crowley’s cheek-

-and sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh good lord, Crowley! You’re on fire!” he hissed, alarm in his voice. “Come now, let’s get you home immediately.”

A whimper escaped Crowley’s throat as Aziraphale pulled them apart, but he didn’t argue when the alpha took his hand and dragged him out of the park and to the road, where a cab was mercifully already waiting. 

Aziraphale told the cabbie to step on it - much to Crowley’s amusement - and wrapped the omega in his arms, pressing firm fingers to the tense muscles in his shoulders - much to Crowley’s delight. It wasn’t a long drive, and the alpha threw far too much money at the driver at the end of it. Then he was gently guiding Crowley out of the vehicle and into the block of Mayfair flats. 

They were quiet all the way up to the top floor, Crowley fighting back the urge to whine and press himself against the alpha, Aziraphale doing his best to breathe slowly, in and out, through his mouth. When they had arrived at Crowley’s door, Aziraphale took a step back and offered a smile that seemed somehow a bit sad. “Well then, home safe and sound,” he announced, cleared his throat, and shuffled his feet. He seemed all at once pleased to have seen the omega home, and upset about something he wasn’t voicing. “I suppose that I will, um… That is to say- Of course, you should absolutely feel free to message me if you need anything, anything at all, and I’ll-”

While the alpha stumbled over his words, Crowley unlocked his door and pushed it open before turning back to Aziraphale. Without truly thinking about it, he spit out the question: “Was he right?”

Aziraphale blinked, lips parted, evidently caught off guard by the question. “Pardon?”

Crowley needed to clutch the door frame to keep himself steady, but he drew up the courage to clarify. “The asshole back there,” he said, voice rather quiet. “Was he right? Do you...do you  _ want _ me?” The way he said it, there could be no mistaking how he  _ meant _ it. 

Aziraphale bit his lip, but the answer was in his eyes before he could even say it aloud. “Yes,” he said, with something like a sigh. “So, so very much, darling. So much that I feel lightheaded with it.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and seemed to steady himself while offering Crowley a soft smile. “But not the way he did, my dear. I don’t just want your...your body, Crowley. I want  _ you _ . Do you understand?”

As he’d done back at the park, Crowley strode forward and wrapped his arms around the alpha, but instead of meeting him in a kiss, this time the omega leaned into Aziraphale’s neck, nosing at the patch there. Aziraphale tensed, but Crowley curled his fingers into the alpha’s waistcoat, holding tight. “I want…” the omega whimpered. 

_ What if…? _

_ What if…? _

_ What if…? _

Crowley squeezed his eyes tightly closed and bit hard on the inside of his cheek. He could almost hear Anathema telling him to buck up and take a chance, and if only to get her damned voice out of his head, he agreed. 

“May I?” he whispered, lifting a hand to the patch on Aziraphale’s neck. 

The alpha was shaking slightly, fighting his own instincts. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and after a moment he choked out a hoarse-sounding, “Are you certain?”

He wasn’t. He was terrified. And with his heat rapidly descending upon him, there was a voice - the voice of experience, he supposed - screaming at him to get inside, slam and lock the door, and resign himself to several days of painful loneliness. 

But if there was even the tiniest chance…

“Yes,” he breathed, and could hear the desperation in his own voice. 

There was a pause. It seemed as though Aziraphale had stopped breathing all together. Then, finally, he gave a single sharp nod. 

Crowley held his own breath as he carefully peeled the little white patch away from the alpha’s skin. He swallowed hard, clenched his jaw tight, and took a slow, careful breath in.

His knees went out from under him. 

Not expecting it, Aziraphale let out a yelp as he scrambled to catch the omega. He managed it, but just barely, and they both ended up on their knees on the floor outside Crowley’s flat, Aziraphale cradling the omega in his arms to keep him upright. “Crowley!” he exclaimed, voice rife with concern. “Are you okay?!”

Crowley’s whole body was shaking, vibrating with a frenzied kind of energy that he couldn’t have described. His chest felt full and tight, his throat dry and burning. He couldn’t seem to work out whether to laugh or cry, so what came out instead was more of a needy sob. He felt fingers on his chin, and then he was looking into the most beautiful blue eyes, shining with affectionate unease. He felt tears stinging his own eyes and wished that he could banish them, but it was really the least of his concerns right now because...because…

“Angel,” Crowley gasped, unable and unwilling to keep the smile from splitting his face. “You- You smell like chocolate.”

Aziraphale’s eyes blew wide, initially confused and disbelieving. “I...I what?”

And just like that, Crowley was laughing  _ and  _ crying. “You smell like chocolate!” he repeated, voice heavy with joy. “You smell like hot cocoa being heated over a wood fire of cedar and birch. You smell absolutely fucking amazing!”

The alpha’s whole body shuddered, somehow relaxing and tensing again all at once, not knowing quite how to react to this knowledge. A heartbeat passed, and then another, and then, barely a whisper, “What...what does that mean, Crowley?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? A question that could have dozens of answers, or none at all. 

Right now, in this moment, there was only one answer that Crowley wanted. 

Emboldened in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, Crowley spread his fingers across Aziraphale’s chest, drew in a deep breath, and gazed at the alpha with heated eyes. “Stay with me?” he asked, voice soft and vulnerable, with just a hint of desperation. 

Aziraphale didn’t seem capable of looking away, and a tremor travelled through him, his body attempting to answer the request for him. He swallowed, his breaths coming just a bit too fast. “Are you certain?” he asked. Careful. Considerate. A true gentleman even when presented with his greatest, animalistic desire. 

Slowly, deliberately, Crowley stood, stepped toward his open door, and turned back with his hand outstretched toward his alpha. “Never been so certain of anything before in my life,” he huffed, a wonderful little laugh. 

And Aziraphale moaned - just a small, soft,  _ hungry  _ sound that nearly made Crowley’s knees drop out from under him again. 

“Well, my darling...how could I possibly say no to that?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time ever, Crowley has company during his heat...  
> ...and Aziraphale is determined to make his presence felt in the best possible ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Aziraphale was finding it extremely difficult to remain calm. 

His heart was beating hard and fast enough to spark a subconscious fear for his health. He felt hot and tense all throughout his body in a way that he hadn’t felt since the last time he had experienced a rut. His mind was such a cacophonous jumble of thoughts ( _ wants, needs, furious desires _ ) that he was finding it nigh on impossible to focus on any one individual one. 

Then the door to Crowley’s flat snapped closed, the deadbolt clicked over, and without thinking he had his lips on Crowley’s as he trapped the omega against the backside of the door. He devoured all the little gasps and groans that bubbled up his beautiful throat, breathing deep of the hot, floral scent of the omega’s lust. With a slight shift, he slotted a leg between Crowley’s, crowding their bodies together in order to feel the clear evidence of the omega’s arousal. 

Oh  _ lord _ , Aziraphale wanted to  _ devour _ Crowley. To absolutely  _ ruin  _ him. To make him cry his name and beg for more, more,  _ more.  _ He wanted to sink both teeth and cock into hot flesh, to claim the omega for his own, for now and always. He wanted to-

He wanted to-

Aziraphale had rucked up Crowley’s shirt and was running greedy fingers over the omega’s gorgeous body when he felt a tremor run through those tight muscles and froze, forcibly yanking his mind back to more important things. He pulled back to meet Crowley’s eyes and found him pale and sweating. He freed a hand from the omega’s shirt and brought it up to gently cup his darling’s cheek. “Crowley, dearest, are you alright?”

Crowley swallowed, smiled, and nodded, but he was breathing hard and appeared quite faint. “D-definitely, angel,” he huffed, half-laughing. “Just...h-heat’s hitting...f-fast.”

Just like that, without a second thought, Aziraphale’s priorities shifted. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Crowley’s nose and slipped his arms around the omega before lifting him - with an adorable little yelp - into a bridal carry. “Tell me what you need, darling, and you shall have it.”

His words seemed to have a visceral effect on Crowley, sending waves of little, pleasurable shudders through him and causing his golden eyes to flutter closed. After a moment he leaned in closer, nuzzling his nose against the alpha’s throat and breathing deep and slow. “Help me make a nest?” he whispered. 

Aziraphale’s heart soared at the thought of sharing such an important, intimate task with Crowley. “Of course, my darling,” he sighed, perhaps a little bit overcome. “I would be honored.” He pulled the omega even closer, revelling in the tickling of Crowley’s breath against his neck. Later, he was certain, his natural curiosity would have him running in circles over this wonder, this revelation, that  _ his _ scent was pleasant to Crowley...but for the time being he was simply grateful. Painfully, joyfully grateful. 

“Lead the way, dearest,” he hummed as he stepped further into the flat with purpose.

Crowley gestured, guiding the way past the kitchen and sitting room, down the hall, and toward the bedroom. Aziraphale did not hesitate, but he did beam and offer little praises and compliments to the many plants they passed on the way, which had Crowley grinning and shivering with happiness. When they finally reached their destination, Aziraphale allowed himself only a brief moment to take in the room itself, which was sparse but cozy. His chest swelled with countless emotions as he tenderly lowered his darling omega down upon the black silk sheets. He longed to crawl over that long, lithe body, to strip him bare and savor every inch of him, but he forced himself to bite back his desire a bit longer. “What do you need, darling?” he murmured into a kiss pressed to Crowley’s jawline. “Direct me and I shall fetch it for you.” 

Crowley keened and arched his back, long fingers clutching at the sheets beneath him, seeking some kind of grounding. “Nnngg...p-pillows, in the closet,” he managed to gasp. “T-the...the red throw blanket on the couch, and the- Mmmnn...t-the-” He paused a moment, flushing a very pretty pink in a moment of embarrassment. “T-the plush snake in the bottom drawer of the dresser…”

Aziraphale could hardly keep the grin off his face at the sweetness of it. He made a mental note to ask about the plush toy later, but for now he placed a quick kiss to Crowley’s cheek and rushed off to gather the requested items. When he returned with the blanket and the plush - an adorable black-and-red serpent with eyes a similar color to the omega’s - he found Crowley pulling at his sheets, roughing them up into an artful pile on which he rubbed his scent. The sight pulled at Aziraphale’s heart and desires, but he rushed off to retrieve the pillows before he let himself get caught up. There was a veritable sea of them in the closet, which made him chuckle, but a moment later he froze, breath caught in his throat. The pillows were all various shades of black and red, except for one square throw pillow that stood out like a dove among ravens. 

It was tartan. Blues and beiges criss-crossing in a lovely pattern that was remarkably similar to-

“Saw it in a shop window…” came Crowley’s small voice from the bed. “Reminded me of you, and I-” He paused, voice a bit hoarse, but smiled when Aziraphale turned to gaze at him with clear and expansive affection. “Bring it with the others, please,” he requested, nibbling at his lip. 

Aziraphale did as he was asked, happily carting over the excessive armload of pillows with the tartan one in particular held quite close so that he could scent it on the way over. 

Once everything was piled and arranged around the bed in a way that seemed to please Crowley, the omega reached for Aziraphale’s hands, gently pulling the alpha down into his nest. The intimacy of it had Aziraphale struggling for breath, fighting to keep himself calm, his most important desire to take care of his omega. “What now, my darling?” he rumbled low in his throat as he leaned in to playfully nip at Crowley’s throat. “What do you need now?”

Crowley’s response was a little desperate whine and a statement that he was, “So hot, angel,” followed by a soft, begging, “Undress me?”

And Aziraphale had to take another moment, because his trousers were rather uncomfortably tight and his entire body was buzzing with visceral, animal desire. With an exceptionally valiant effort, he ignored the strain. 

“Your wish is my command, dearheart,” he growled. 

Back in the park, when dealing with the threat at hand, Aziraphale’s strong hands had been quick, steady, and ruthless. Now, here in his omega’s nest, surrounded by the heady scent of heat and nature and sweat, his hands trembled as he carefully manipulated a line of buttons to divest Crowley of the white shirt that he had thought so fetching. As the flat plains of chest and stomach were revealed Aziraphale ached to touch, but he bullied himself into focusing on his task. His fingers trailed down to those sinfully tight trousers - which, he noticed with a growl in his chest, had become much tighter recently - and he grumbled just a bit as he fought them down, finally shucking them to the floor along with the omega’s shoes and socks. 

When he finally looked back up from his struggles, Aziraphale felt all of the air being unceremoniously punched from his lungs. During the alpha’s ministrations Crowley had fallen back against a pile of pillows, arms and legs spread wide, cheeks flush and throat beaded with sweat, chest rising and falling in rapid little bursts. It was, by far, the most erotic sight Aziraphale had ever been faced with. 

It took a few long, breathy moments for Aziraphale to come back to reality, and he only truly did so because Crowley smiled shyly and gently complained that, “You’re making me sweat just looking at all those clothes, angel.”

Aziraphale could, indeed, be quite oblivious on occasion, especially when it came to such things as modern technology and current fashion trends. He was not, however, a fucking idiot. He could take a hint when it was being shoved right down his throat by the most gorgeous creature he had ever known. 

He hardly recalled the actual undressing, which was odd for him considering how careful he generally was with his clothes. All he knew was that in the next moment his waistcoat and trousers were gone, which had helped significantly in reducing the pressure against his groin. But when he reached for his bow tie, Crowley made a little whimpering sound and lifted his arms in a ‘Please come here’ gesture that had the alpha vibrating all over.

_ F-fuck...keep yourself together, now, Aziraphale… _

Now that a specific request had been made, Aziraphale finally allowed himself to kneel down onto the bed and crawl up over Crowley, into the nest he had made to spend the next several days in. He gazed down at the beautiful omega beneath him with stars in his eyes. “What is it, dearheart?” he asked as he ran a thumb along a soft, shuddering cheek. “What do you wish?”

By way of response, Crowley looked back at the alpha with lidded eyes and reached up to remove the bow tie himself. Aziraphale had to focus on each breath in and out as the strip of fabric was carefully pulled from his collar, whereupon Crowley slowly, tenderly wound it around his own fingers and pressed it reverently to his cheek. The omega’s eyes fluttered closed as he drew in a deep, slow breath.

“Fucking beautiful,” Aziraphale gasped, and didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Crowley reopened his eyes and rewarded him with a breathtaking smile. He only had a few moments to enjoy the sight, however, before the omega took a sharp breath, cringed, and keened. 

“Shit!” Aziraphale hissed before lifting a hand to Crowley’s forehead. “Are you okay? What’s happening? I’m so sorry, darling, I’ve never been present for an omega’s heat before, so I”m afraid that I’m quite lost without your guidance.” The realization, coupled with his intense desire to care for and protect Crowley, had the alpha within Aziraphale growling with frustration.

Crowley’s answer was a groan and a weak upward thrust of his hips against Aziraphale’s, seeking friction. “Nnng-! So hot, angel,” he moaned, fingers scrabbling at the alpha’s shirt; whether to remove it or simply ground himself against it was uncertain. “I need- I  _ need-! _ ”

Aziraphale’s hands found Crowley’s, slotting their fingers together and holding tight. “Tell me, darling,” he urged. “Tell me what you need.”

Crowley bit his lip, hard - and  _ oh _ how delicious that sight was… - before wrapping his long legs around Aziraphale’s hips and begging, “Need  _ you!  _ P-please, need you!”

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- _

Aziraphale pressed his nose to his omega’s throat and breathed deep, a growl rumbling through his chest. “You’re certain, darling?” he forced himself to ask, biting through the words one at a time. “I need to know that you’re  _ certain _ . If you’re not I- I can help you in other ways-” It hurt him almost physically to even suggest it at this point, but he needed to know, to be absolutely sure before-

A soft, wet heat pressed against the alpha’s scent gland, making him shiver involuntarily. Crowley’s tongue traced along the gland and up, drawing away only when it reached an earlobe. “My angel - my alpha...I am  _ so fucking certain _ .”

It was a testament to Aziraphale’s iron will that he retained anything resembling conscious thought after such a statement. His skin felt as though it was  _ pulsing _ with lust, his alpha instincts kicking in with a vengeance. And he was being  _ invited  _ to partake. How mindblowingly fucking  _ amazing _ …

But this wasn’t about him. At least, not this time. Not yet. 

Taking long, slow, deep breaths as he went, Aziraphale slid down Crowley’s sweat-slick body, pressing possessive kisses as he went. The omega squirmed and writhed beneath him, making little mewling sounds that went straight to the alpha’s cock. When he’d reached the waistband of Crowley’s pants he hooked his fingers beneath it and glanced up, meeting those gorgeous honey-gold eyes that he wanted to drown in. And he made a promise: “I’m going to take care of you, my omega. I’m going to take very good care of you.”

Crowley panted and whimpered as Aziraphale drew the tight pants over his hard, leaking cock and down his legs, discarding them. The alpha took a moment to admire the sight, because it was far too delicious not to. His omega was long and flushed and dripping against his stomach, and-

“Fuck…” Aziraphale hissed as he ran a hand up the inside of one gorgeous, milky thigh. His fingers met slick wetness that made him visibly shudder, the scent rising up to choke him with need. “Lord, you’re so wet for me already…”

Crowley’s hips twitched, seeking friction. His fingers scrabbled in the bed sheets, not knowing what to do with themselves. “Want you,” he gasped, “Need you- Ready for you, my alpha-  _ Please _ …”

Aziraphale’s touch was gentle, but quite firm and steady. He gripped one of Crowley’s ankles and manoeuvred the leg up over his shoulder, shuffling his own body closer. With his free hand he reached down for his own pants and shoved them down around his hips, finally freeing his own desperate hardness. Crowley whined and panted harder when it was revealed, arching his back and attempting to press his arse closer to the alpha. 

“Shhhh...I’ve got you, darling,” Aziraphale soothed, though he was practically shaking himself. “I’ve got you..” 

The first careful press forward pulled twin moans of relief from the lovers. Aziraphale had never been with an omega who was in active heat, so the way Crowley’s body seemed to guide him in felt more incredible than anything he had ever experienced before. He was nearly beside himself as he slowly pushed deeper and deeper, enveloping himself in his omega’s tight, wet heat. He stopped moving only when his swollen knot pressed close to Crowley’s body; that was not a step to be taken right now. 

“Oh god-” Crowley was gasping, knuckles turning white as long fingers fisted against sheets and pillows, desperate for purchase. “Oh  _ god _ , angel, you’re so-  _ F-fuck _ , feelsss sssso good-!”

Aziraphale could scarcely disagree, but at the moment he had no words one way or the other. Instead, he leaned forward, mantling over his omega, one hand grasping possessively at a quivering hip. And then he  _ moved _ .

It was hot, and it was slick, and it was just this side of desperate. Their bodies seemed made for one another, moving together in an erratic rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Crowley keened and writhed and begged for, “More-! Harder-! Faster-!” Aziraphale grunted and growled and shifted every few thrusts until he found the spot that made his omega  _ scream _ . The slap of skin on skin was exquisitely obscene. The mingling of their scents and their sweat was distinctly  _ them _ and dizzyingly ambrosial. In the heat of the moment Aziraphale felt that he could  _ live _ here, that he could  _ be  _ this, and only this forever...but he could feel the end approaching and knew only one thing for sure: he would be absolutely certain that Crowley got there first. 

The alpha shifted, snaking a hand beneath his omega to draw him closer, while the other reached between them to wrap around that lovely, flushed hot cock. Crowley wailed as he began stroking in time with his own thrusts, working the omega hard and fast with single-minded determination. “I’ve got you, love,” Aziraphale growled deep in his throat. “I’ve got you… Come for me, my fucking gorgeous omega-”

The words were barely past his lips when Crowley cried out, every muscle in his body spasming at once as he spilled hot and sticky over his stomach and Aziraphale’s hand. The sudden clenching tightness drew a howl from the alpha, his hips stuttering once, twice, and then stilling, filling his omega’s body with pulse after pulse until he had nothing left to give. 

Aziraphale’s body wanted to collapse, exhaustion edging forward in a bid to overtake pleasure. He refused to let it do so, however, because the view was simply too perfect not to enjoy. 

Crowley was smiling at him, golden eyes just barely open as he fought his own fatigue. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his hair was a thoroughly teased mess on the pillow beneath him. He was - Aziraphale thought, besottedly -  _ glowing _ .

A shaky hand lifted from the sex-damp sheets and found the alpha’s cheek, fingertips delicately tracing the curve of it. Crowley was visibly fighting to keep his eyes open, but his smile widened and he managed to sigh out, “You called me ‘love’...”

Aziraphale nuzzled into the omega’s hand and returned his smile with an adoring one of his own. “I sure did,” he readily admitted before leaning down to press a soft kiss to Crowley’s lips. When he drew back the omega’s lashes were fluttering, rapidly losing the fight against the need for sleep. As gently as he could, the alpha withdrew from his lover’s body, rearranged them so that Crowley was pillowed protectively against Aziraphale’s chest, and snagged the edge of a blanket to pull up over top of them. 

“Rest now, dearheart,” he insisted, pressing another kiss to the top of his omega’s head. “I’ll be right here when you wake.”

“Mmm…” Crowley murmured against Aziraphale’s chest, voice heavy with sleep. “Y’ better be…”

Then he was gone, breathing slow and deep. Aziraphale wasn’t far behind, a blissful smile on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fun continues...  
> Softness and conversation and snuggles...  
> And Crowley makes a request...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Crowley woke slowly, his brain in a fuzzy, pleasant kind of haze. He felt as though he was surfacing from the most wonderful dream that he never wanted to fully wake from…

Then the delicious scent of gourmet chocolate hit him and it all came rushing back. 

His eyes flew open, barely daring to believe, and he felt his chest tighten with happiness at the sight. Aziraphale was breathing deeply, his eyes still beneath closed lids, sound asleep. Even in sleep, though, the alpha’s arms were wrapped protectively around the omega, holding him close, cradling him to his broad chest. It made Crowley’s inner omega purr. In fact, it made his  _ outer _ omega purr, the soft rumbling working its way through his chest and bullying its way out into the world. 

He thought upon the activities of a few short hours ago and had to bite his lip to keep from grinning like a complete fool. That had  _ really happened _ . This gorgeous, sweet, smart, sexy  _ angel _ of a man had taken care of him...and taken  _ extremely _ good care of him, he recalled with a flush. Lord...he’d never felt properly...well,  _ satisfied _ during a heat before! He’d never once, in all these years, fallen asleep happy and sated. He had never felt his body accept what it had been given and give him relief. 

And to find himself this way because of his perfect angel...his  _ alpha _ ...fuck...it was a dream come true, there was no other way to say it. 

Careful not to wake Aziraphale, Crowley wriggled just a bit, readjusting himself so that he could nuzzle his nose against the alpha’s neck.  _ Fuck _ , that scent… He breathed deep and nearly shuddered at the delicious perfection of it. Without a doubt there was a part of him that was painfully curious, that wanted to understand the how’s and why’s, the strange biology that seemed to make so little sense… But after all this time and meeting the man of his dreams, it was impossible not to just be  _ so fucking happy _ . It was as though the two men had been meant for one another, as though everything Crowley had been dealing with since his very first heat was nothing more than a guiding compass leading him here, to Aziraphale. 

As though summoned by the omega’s thoughts, the alpha’s eyelids began to flutter. Crowley bit his lip and held his breath, absolutely stunned to silence by the perfection that was Aziraphale gently waking beside him. 

Shining blue eyes appeared, followed closely behind by a breathtaking smile. “Hello,” the alpha sighed. 

Crowley wondered if Aziraphale could hear his heart fluttering madly between them. “Hello, you,” he replied, voice soft. 

The strong arms that were already wrapped around him squeezed a little more tightly as the alpha shifted so that they were face-to-face. “Did you sleep well, darling?” Aziraphale asked before pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of the omega’s nose. 

Crowley felt his cheeks flush. He made a small affirmative sound and nodded once. “Never slept so well in my life,” he admitted, chuckling a little. “That was…” He paused to swallow and let out a little huff of a laugh. He felt so warm...so…

Aziraphale’s fingers found the back of the omega’s neck, caressing gently. “You’re quite warm, dearest,” he said carefully. “I expect another wave is about to hit you.”

Once he’d said it aloud, Crowley knew that he was right. He could feel the way his body temperature was rapidly rising, the way his chest was tightening and his hips were twitching. Personal experience and instinct had him frowning, annoyed with his body. “I’ll...I’ll be fine,” he found himself murmuring, his gaze falling to his own hand laying against Aziraphale’s chest. “I can, um...I mean, if you wanna enjoy the rest of the flat, o-or find something to eat, or…”

“Crowley, look at me.”

The omega gulped, wriggled, and finally looked up at his alpha from beneath his eyelashes, trying and failing not to fear the worst. He was surprised, therefore, when what he saw was a soft smile and a look of fond admonishment. 

Aziraphale’s fingers found Crowley’s jawline, tenderly tracing the edge of it. “Darling, I am  _ precisely _ where I want to be,” the alpha insisted, with just a note of a commanding tone that made the omega shiver pleasantly. “I told you that I would take care of you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do, until you tell me that you no longer want me here.”

Crowley stared, wide-eyed, feeling as though all the breath had been ripped from his body. It was only the soft caress of Aziraphale’s fingers along his Adam’s apple that made him find the ability to gasp out, “Never- I’ll...I’ll never no longer want you here.” He was rewarded with a smile so bright it could have blotted out the sun. 

In lieu of further words, Aziraphale pressed a finger up beneath Crowley’s chin and drew him in to claim his lips. The omega went willingly, joyfully, heart beating a mile a minute. Aziraphale’s mouth moved against him with delicate precision, teasing out little hums and moans, making the omega’s head light. Crowley’s fingertips curled against his alpha’s chest, delighting in the ticklish brush of the pale hair there. They splayed out and pressed against the soft flesh, sensing the power of the muscle hidden beneath. Without thinking about it, Crowley let a high-pitched whine of arousal escape him as he recalled Aziraphale’s heroic antics from the night before. 

Aziraphale drew away at the sound, causing Crowley to chase him with a pout and a whimper, but the alpha had a sly smirk on his face as he wound his fingers up into the hair at the base of the omega’s neck. “What do you want, darling?” he asked, tone heavy. “I can tell there’s something...tell me what you desire.”

Crowley bit his lip...hard. He wasn’t used to...well, any of this, to be honest. It had been a long time since he’d taken a lover, and much longer than that since a lover had genuinely wanted to  _ take care _ of him, to  _ please _ him. It felt strange having this sudden burst of specific  _ want _ and having the option to present it for approval. 

“I, um…” the omega stammered, nibbling at his raw lip and trying to ignore the way his body was starting to ache and flare with heat. “W-would you-” He gulped, unable to completely silence the embarrassment that fought for a place in the forefront of his mind. But those gorgeous blue eyes were looking at him with such patience, such fondness… He found himself spitting out the words and hoping for the best: “W-would you t-take me from b-behind? And h-hold me down?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and his whole body went perfectly still. Crowley immediately panicked, thinking he’d gone too far, freaked the alpha out, scared him off with a silly fantasy. He swallowed twice, desperately trying to wet his throat while he fought for the words with which to backtrack, maybe play it off as a joke-

Then he heard the low, rumbling growl emanating from Aziraphale’s chest and felt the breath catch in his throat. 

Finally, the alpha spoke. His voice was deep and husky, and there was absolutely no denying the desire in it. “Swear to me,” he said slowly, his gaze never for a moment leaving Crowley’s. “Swear to me you’ll tell me  _ immediately _ if there’s anything you don’t like.” It wasn’t a request. In this delicate scenario Aziraphale was working very hard to put forth a commanding presence. 

Crowley nodded enthusiastically. His breathing had quickened and not all of the heat he was feeling was a result of his condition. “‘Red’ for stop,” he promised. “I swear.”

It was all Aziraphale needed. In the next moment he was whipping away the blanket that had been atop them, revealing the proof that Crowley’s request was affecting him just as much as it was the omega. Crowley nearly salivated at the sight. His gorgeous, powerful, avenging angel, so soft on the outside, yet strong as steel beneath. And  _ fuck… _ The omega hadn’t been in much of a state the night before to look his fill, but now that he wasn’t as far gone he could see that the alpha’s cock was as perfect as the rest of him; thick and hard and all for  _ him _ . 

Crowley felt, rather than heard, himself whimper. He could feel his body throbbing, begging to be filled,  _ needing _ it. He reached out with one hand, as though to touch, but Aziraphale caught his fingers, lifted them to his lips, and kissed them as tenderly as though he had been made of glass.

Then, with a hungry flash in his eyes, both of the alpha’s hands went to the omega’s hips and  _ flipped  _ him. Crowley couldn’t help but yelp, continually surprised and aroused-as-fuck by how strong Aziraphale was. When his front hit the sheets and pillows, he let out a second yelp, because the alpha yanked on his hips, dragging the omega toward himself and hoisting his arse in the air. Crowley’s fingers scrambled for purchase on the bed, but flexed and stilled in delighted shock when a wide, warm, wet tongue trailed a path from his bollocks to the base of his spine. Before he could stop himself the omega was mewling, a finger pressed between his teeth to keep some of the sound at bay. To his surprise, a sharp press of teeth nipped at the globe of one arsecheek, causing him to gasp aloud. 

“Don’t hide your lovely sounds from me, darling,” Aziraphale growled from behind him. One hand left his hips to press, firm and possessive, into the small of his back, working its way up until it was splayed between his shoulder blades, easily and effectively pinning him to the bed. “I want to hear every last little gasp,” the alpha continued, his voice deeper than Crowley had ever heard it. “Do you understand?”

Crowley’s chest was heaving as he fought to breathe with some kind of normal rhythm. He squirmed a bit and confirmed, to his extreme exhilaration, that he was helpless against his alpha’s strength. Barely able to remember how to form the words, the omega fairly cried out, “Yes! Yes, alpha, I understand! So please-” He wiggled his hips and mewled aloud this time. “So hot, so empty- Please, alpha, please-”

The sound Aziraphale made was one that would feature in every last one of Crowley’s fantasies for the rest of his bloody life, he was certain. “How can I say no?” the alpha rumbled low in his throat. “When you beg so beautifully for me?” 

The hand on Crowley’s back tensed, the fingertips digging into flesh with just enough pressure to feel fantastic, and then-

“Yessss-” Crowley hissed, his voice a desperate, needy thing, as he felt the blunt head of his alpha’s cock press up against him. Before he knew what he was doing he was babbling incoherently: “Please, alpha, I’m ready, I need you, I want you,  _ fuck me _ , please,  _ fuck m-NKG! _ ”

All of Crowley’s begging and pleading morphed into a long, punched-out groan of pleasure as Aziraphale slammed home in a single thrust. Without any preamble at all the alpha began to thrust with purpose, hips snapping forward in conjunction with the hand on Crowley’s hip yanking him back. He set a punishing pace, slamming into the omega with a steady, unrelenting rhythm that had Crowley yowling with pleasure. 

He felt so full, so perfectly stretched, so deliciously  _ used _ , and-

_ Safe _ , he realized with a gasp and sob, his whole body on fire. He felt  _ safe _ with Aziraphale. Safe and protected and  _ cherished _ , even as he was being held down, being taken apart - exactly as he’d asked to be, like he was worth indulging, worth-

He wasn’t sure exactly which thought process it was that did it, but before Crowley knew what was happening he was coming untouched, infinitely harder and more euphorically than he’d ever done by his own hand. He howled as the waves of pleasure washed over him, hard and fast like the ocean crashing against the shore in a storm. His whole body clenched, muscles spasming, and he heard Aziraphale gasp and groan behind him, his hips stuttering out of rhythm in his surprise. 

“D-don’t stop!” Crowley cried aloud, voice thick with ecstasy. “Oh god, angel, don’t stop!”

There was another brief moment of hesitation and barely-there movement, but then the alpha resumed his pace with gusto, slamming in harder and harder and harder, making the omega quake with aftershocks and over-sensitivity. Just when Crowley was gasping for breath and positively quivering from the intensity of his orgasmic aftershocks, Aziraphale thrust one final time, his fingers digging into the omega’s hip hard enough to bruise. A spreading warmth filled Crowley, making his inner omega shiver and purr with pleasure. 

He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened - he may have blacked out for a few moments - but the next thing Crowley recalled he was being cradled in Aziraphale’s arms, held close with his knees bundled up against the alpha’s side. Aziraphale’s fingers were in his hair, lightly massaging his scalp, and there was an intense look of happiness in those gemstone-blue eyes. 

“Was that what you wanted, dearest?” he asked, sounding genuinely nervous. 

Crowley could scarcely think, never mind speak, but the besotted smile came easily. “W’s perfect,” he managed to murmur. “Y’ fuck goooood…”

Aziraphale’s delighted laughter was even better than the sex.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is better than a steaming hot bubble bath...  
> ...with the object of your most deliciously insatiable desires?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, darlings, did you think that I was done now that the boys have had their fun? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...oh no, no, no...there is still so much more fun to be had. ^_^
> 
> I also just wanted to take this moment to give a huge digital hug to everyone who has been reading and commenting on "The Scent of Desire". It recently passed 12k views and 644 kudos (not to mention all the extra kudos y'all are always giving me in the comments), and I'm just SO happy that you've all been enjoying this one so much! I've thoroughly enjoyed writing it, and it's nice to know that I'm capable of writing alpha-omega dynamics that pleases readers. ^_^ Cheers and love, and I hope you continue to enjoy my soft sexy-bois!
> 
> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Crowley made a soft sound of protest as he was shifted out of Aziraphale’s arms and back onto the bed. His eyes had fluttered closed, but now he opened them, pouting up at his alpha with the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes he could muster. 

Aziraphale smiled down at him with a soft chuckle and lifted a hand to brush a few strands of hair behind the omega’s ear. “I’ll be right back, darling,” he promised. “I just need to use the facilities.”

“ _ Facilities _ ,” Crowley teased, still pretending to sulk. “You can say  _ loo _ , angel.”

The alpha gasped theatrically, lifting a hand to his chest like a scandalized Victorian gentlewoman. “I have  _ standards _ , you know!” he exclaimed, before striding off toward the loo with a hearty guffaw on his lips. 

Crowley watched him go while nibbling at his lip, not even attempting to fight the smile that split his face. When the secretly powerful, plush arse had disappeared around a corner, the omega sighed and wriggled with pleasure. He still couldn’t believe that they were both here...that somehow, against all odds, he had found an alpha who seemed perfect for him in every conceivable way, and that he was  _ here _ , keeping Crowley company during his heat. It felt like some fairy tale dream, and if it was Crowley didn’t ever want to wake up. 

He was distracted from his daydreaming by a steady vibrating noise coming from somewhere down on the floor. With what little energy he had at the moment, he leaned out over the edge of the bed and rummaged through the discarded piles of clothes until he located what he was looking for: his mobile. Swiping the screen awake revealed a string of text messages from Anathema in varying states of distress. 

The first was a simple:  **_Hey, Ant. Thought you’d want to know that your baby girl is safe and sound in your spot outside the flat. I’ve got the keys at my place whenever you’re ready for them._ **

The second was a bit more excitable. 

**_Hey, you remember that asshole from the shop who was harassing you? I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure I’m looking at his mugshot on the news right now. Sounds like he was arrested last night._ **

The third was when things started getting more distraught, resulting in a small wall of text. 

**_Waitaminute, holy shit, Crowley, the news says he was assaulting an omega who’d gone into heat at the festival! Jesus Christ, was that you??! Are you okay?!_ **

**_You DID get home safe, right? Tell me Zira got you home safe!_ **

**_[Missed call.]_ **

**_[Missed call.]_ **

**_Fucking hell, Crowley, answer me already, would you?! Zira isn’t answering Newt’s messages either! WHAT IS GOING ON?_ **

Crowley was cringing by the time he got to the last message, which had come through only a few moments ago. He quickly got to work typing out a rapid response before Ana lost her mind and sent the rescue team out to find him. 

**_Steady there, girl. Sorry I missed your calls. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Home safe and sound._ **

He hit ‘send’ and began typing up a more thorough explanation, but was interrupted by Anathema’s response. 

**_Oh thank FUCK, Ant… Christ, are you okay? It WAS you that bastard went after, right? What on Earth happened???!!_ **

Crowley took a few deep, calming breaths and hit backspace a few times to adjust what he’d already been typing. 

**_Yes, it was me. He was drunk and he had his mates with him. I won’t lie to you Ana, it was a bad show. I’m shaking a little just remembering. Not sure what he would have done with me if it hadn’t been for Aziraphale. He rescued me, Ana… Beat the asshole down without even breaking a sweat._ **

He waited patiently, watching the message screen, and wasn’t at all surprised when Anathema’s response came within moments.

**_Holy shit, really? Never knew he had it in him. I am going to buy him SO much fucking tea. But wait, is HE okay? He hasn’t been answering Newt’s messages. He didn’t get hurt because of that prick, did he?_ **

Crowley couldn’t help but smile to himself knowing that his best friend was so worried about his alpha. He quickly typed out another message to assure her that her fears were unfounded. 

**_Don’t worry, he’s fine too. Not a scratch on him. Right fuckin conquering hero he was. He probably just missed Newt’s messages for the same reason I missed yours._ **

Here he paused, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and grinning as he imagined the look on Anathema’s face when she read his message. He could practically see the gears turning in her head as she fought to interpret that particular claim. 

**_Wait...what?_ **

Crowley laughed aloud just as Aziraphale reappeared, looking pleased by the omega’s mirth. “What’s so funny, darling?” the alpha inquired. In response, Crowley waved him over and gestured for him to snuggle up close. He snagged a blanket to throw around both of their shoulders, and leaned close, nuzzling up against his alpha’s neck, before extending his arm and snapping a selfie with his mobile. Having not expected it, Aziraphale wasn’t looking at the camera, but rather gazing at Crowley with a soft, happy haze in his eyes. It was a  _ perfect _ shot. Crowley immediately sent it off to Anathema with a grin. 

“What are you-?” Aziraphale began, before glancing up at the bits of the conversation he could see on the screen. A little snort escaped him and his cheeks flushed pink. “Oh you little demon, you.”

Anathema’s response came as an audio recording which, when opened, nearly blew Crowley and Aziraphale’s eardrums out. “AHHHHHHH!!!!! You little bastard! Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, this is HUGE! Fuck, FUCK, what are you doing chatting with me?! GO GET YOUR MAN!!!”

It was several long moments before the pair were able to abate their laughter. Crowley in particular had tears of mirth in his eyes. But eventually he pulled himself together long enough to type one more message.

**_Talk to you soon, Ana. ;)_ **

And he tossed his mobile on the bedside table before turning to his alpha with a grin. “I’d tell you that you should get back to Newt’s messages, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that he was reading our conversation over Ana’s shoulder from bed, so it should all be good.”

Aziraphale chuckled at that and nodded. “You’re probably right,” he agreed. “But I will message him sometime later. For  _ now _ , however-” He twisted around, sliding his arms around and under the omega and scooping him up into his arms with an ease that made Crowley flush and squeak. “We’ve made rather a mess of ourselves, my dearest,” the alpha continued, “so I took the liberty of running us a bath when I noticed what a large, lovely tub you have. I do hope that you don’t mind?”

“Mind?” said Crowley, incredulous. “Fuck, angel, that sounds  _ amazing _ . I usually-” He paused, stammering, feeling his cheeks grow a little hotter. “I, uh...normally I don’t bother cleaning up until it’s over,” he admitted, feeling a little disgusted with himself at the admission.

Aziraphale, however, seemed completely understanding. “That is unsurprising, dearest,” he said as he hoisted them both out of the bed, heading toward the washroom. “Even a common heat can be an exhausting experience. It wouldn’t be surprising at all to learn that you’ve spent entire cycles unable or unwilling to move from your nest. But now-” He paused in the hallway to look down at Crowley with such  _ devotion _ in his eyes that it made the omega’s heart dance in his chest. “-you have someone to take care of you, my sweet omega.”

Crowley looked back, eyes wide, breath fluttering, and felt the first prickling of tears at the corners of his eyes. He quickly glanced away, bringing the heel of a palm up to grind the offending drops away, thoroughly mortified. He scrambled for some kind of explanation for the sudden show of emotion, only for Aziraphale to clutch him more tightly and press a soft kiss to the top of his head. 

The washroom was thick with steam and the lavender scent of Crowley’s favorite bubble bath. Aziraphale had located and lit several candles, creating an intensely romantic atmosphere. Crowley expected the alpha to place him down on his feet so that he could climb into the tub on his own, but instead Aziraphale continued to hold him close and carefully stepped over the edge of the tub himself before easily lowering them both down into the comfortingly hot water. Crowley couldn’t resist the groan that escaped him. The temperature was  _ perfect _ .

As soon as they were settled with Aziraphale’s back against the porcelain and Crowley spread langoriously atop his gloriously comfortable body, the alpha wrapped gentle fingers around the omega’s chin and lifted his head up so that they were eye-to-eye. 

“Crowley, darling,” Aziraphale said quietly, voice soft and tender. “You are hardly going to upset me by showing emotion. Please don’t feel like you ever have to hide your tears from me, sweetheart.”

There was a brief moment during which Crowley tried to smile and scoff and dismiss the very concept that he might have to  _ show emotion _ . Then something about the way Aziraphale was looking at him made a heart-string tweak, and all at once the tears came and there was no stopping them, nor the wracking sobs that came soon after.

Warm, strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him tight and a hand worked up into his hair, massaging the base of his scalp. “Shhh…” Aziraphale soothed, whispering calm words against the omega’s forehead. “That’s it, darling...let it out...it’s okay, I have you. I have you and I’m not letting you go.”

Crowley wept for what felt like a terribly long time, but was truly only about five minutes. By the time he had it all out he was clinging to Aziraphale’s body with what little strength he had, sniffling and whimpering as the alpha held him close and rubbed against him, truly,  _ properly _ scenting him for the first time. The realization of it - and the fact that the scent was wonderfully warm and consoling - ripped a few more sobs from Crowley before he finally settled, nestled into his alpha’s shoulder, shaking gently. 

For a little while they didn’t speak. Aziraphale continued to hold him, fingers lightly running up and down his back, making tiny waves in the bathwater. Eventually, when he felt he could do so without his voice cracking, Crowley did speak again. “I want you to know,” he said, voice small and quiet, “that they’re happy tears, mostly…” He swallowed and nestled closer, pressing his nose close to that warm, chocolatey scent. “I just...I just got a bit overwhelmed, between everything that happened last night at the park, and realizing that your scent… A-and you  _ stayed _ , and the whole ‘someone to take care of you’ thing, and…”

There was a shift of muscles and tendons that told the omega that Aziraphale was smiling. “I understand, darling,” the alpha assured him. “It’s a lot. And all at once like this. Not to mention the fact that you’re in a hormonal state at the moment. There’s no need to explain yourself.”

Crowley sniffled and leaned up, making a face. “I know...I just  _ wanted  _ to.” 

Aziraphale chuckled fondly at that and lifted a hand to capture the omega’s face and draw him in for a kiss. 

It was a soft kiss, sweet and tender and soothing. Crowley ran his fingers along his alpha’s chest, up to trace along his collarbone, and then up further to tease along the hidden strength of his shoulders and arms. Aziraphale’s hand moved along to the back of the omega’s neck, deepening the kiss just a bit, his tongue pressing against the omega’s lips. Crowley happily parted his lips and made all manner of embarrassing noises as the alpha delved within. 

“Nnnng…” Crowley said, brain gone mushy. “Feelsss so good…” He leaned his head to the side to allow Aziraphale a better angle as the alpha began to trail kisses down along his neck and back up to nibble at his earlobe. 

“Did you know that you do this adorable little hissing thing when you’re aroused, darling?” Aziraphale chuckled before sucking the omega’s earlobe into his mouth.

Crowley groaned at the sensation, even as he felt his face flush with embarrassment. “T-that’s, er- I mean-”

Aziraphale took the earlobe between his teeth and gave it a sharp, but playful, little tug as he chuckled. “No need to be flustered, dearheart. I think it’s terribly endearing.”

“Nnggk-”

Well, there was certainly no point in denying that he was well and truly aroused. Impressive, actually, he thought, considering how recently they’d-

Oh… With a sudden moment of clarity Crowley realized that he was not currently in the thrall of his heat, which meant that he could take this opportunity to focus on Aziraphale…

Feeling uncharacteristically bold and excited at the prospect of pleasing his alpha, Crowley let his hand wander, trailing down Aziraphale’s arm, over to his stomach, down along his hip, and then back. When his fingers brushed against the half-hard cock that lay against the alpha’s stomach he felt a little thrill go through him. It shouldn’t have been quite such a revelation - he’d already had that cock  _ inside _ him, after all - but this would be his first time taking Aziraphale in hand, and there was something incredible about that, something truly exciting. In his enthusiasm he wrapped his hand around the alpha’s girth and gave it a little playful squeeze. 

The sound that Aziraphale made was highly encouraging, but even as Crowley began a slow, steady stroke he found the alpha’s hand hovering over his own, stilling it. He looked up, blinking in confusion, to find his blue-eyed angel looking back at him with something like concern. 

“You don’t have to-” Aziraphale said, haltingly, his eyes a little hazy. “You must be exhausted, and… That is, it’s...it’s  _ my _ job to take care of  _ you _ , darling…”

Crowley’s expression softened, his smile returned. “And I love that you want to take care of me, angel,” he said, carefully beginning to move his hand again, ignoring the weight of Aziraphale’s against it. “But I feel fine right now, and...I want to take care of you too.” He leaned up to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s jaw, another to the side of his neck, and a third possessive press to his scent gland. “Let me make you feel good?” he whispered against porcelain skin.

There was no mistaking the way Aziraphale’s body shuddered all over, nor the way he swallowed hard and bit his lip less than gently. Finally, with lidded eyes and a heavy voice, the alpha breathed, “Anything you want, my dearest…”

Crowley worked him slowly, with a delicate touch; long, languid strokes that deepened the alpha’s breathing and finished the work their kissing had already begun. Sooner than the omega may have expected, the alpha was fully hard, a velvety-smooth girth that felt so good in Crowley’s hand. The heft of it made his thighs quiver and his arse ache with anticipation. He wanted it in him again, as soon as possible, but not quite yet… He wanted his alpha to be practically begging for it…

Crowley shifted beneath the water until he was able to wriggle on his knees between Aziraphale’s legs. Then he slid his hands beneath the alpha’s plush arse and - using the buoyancy of the water to his advantage, lifted until the alpha’s hips were at the surface. Aziraphale, seeming to see where the omega’s thought process was headed, hooked one leg up over the side of the tub and planted the other foot flat to hold himself up. For this assistance, Crowley flashed him a handsome smile, before plucking up the alpha’s cock and sinking his lips over the tip of it.

Crowley had wondered, during those first few food-centric dates, what Aziraphale would sound like during sex if he was so vocal while enjoying a meal. The answer was:  _ so _ much louder. The moans that came from Aziraphale as Crowley lapped playfully at the head of his cock were truly delicious and quite possibly exuberant enough for the neighbors to hear. The omega couldn’t have possibly cared less. He  _ loved _ the reaction, desperately wanted more of it, so he sank down lower, and lower still, taking as much of the alpha into his mouth as he could. He was so thick and heavy, but the heft felt amazing on Crowley’s tongue and stretching at his cheeks. Soon he was moaning himself, and revelled in the way the vibrations caused Aziraphale to cry out even more, his breaths turning to gasps.

“Oh lord…” came the rapturous voice from above him. “Crowley- Oh  _ fuck _ , your mouth-! Oh god, it’s so good, darling-”

Crowley’s inner omega preened and purred, beyond ecstatic to be pleasing his alpha. He swirled his tongue and hollowed his cheeks, working what he couldn’t take into his mouth with his hand, humming with pleasure the entire time, adoring the sounds he was dragging out of his angel. He thought that he could do this forever, could pleasure his alpha for hours and hours, drawing it out until-

But he knew that his heat wouldn’t allow for that just now. In fact, he was already growing quite sleepy, having not yet rested after this morning’s revelries. So he opted for another way to finish this particular game for now. 

Carefully, and with Aziraphale’s breathy help, Crowley settled the alpha’s legs back into the tub and crawled up to straddle them. With one hand on his alpha’s broad chest, and the other wrapped around his gorgeous cock, the omega lifted his arse, lined up, and sank down, ripping needy groans from both of them. 

_ Oh _ ...this was a  _ lovely _ position, he soon realized. With only a slight wriggle of his hips he could feel his alpha’s cock shift within him, stretching him in just the right way and striking that spot inside with each gyration. Within moments he found himself rocking and writhing, chasing his own pleasure as well as his alpha’s. His movements only became more desperate when it became clear that Aziraphale wanted him to do just that. The alpha’s lovely hand wrapped around Crowley’s own neglected cock, stroking firm and fast while the omega gasped and groaned and pleaded. 

Oh lord...oh lord it felt so fucking  _ good _ . Crowley had never experienced sex that was anything like sex with Aziraphale. It was as though they  _ fit _ together - two pieces of a puzzle that could only properly exist interlinked with one another. He found himself rocking back and forth with a desperate enthusiasm, and soon Aziraphale was rocking up into him as well, their thrusts working into a perfect rhythm that had them both gasping and groaning and-

This time it was Aziraphale who came first, his free hand grasping needily around Crowley’s hip while his body stuttered upward erratically. The sensation of being filled again was what did it for the omega; he came with a shout of his alpha’s name and subsequently collapsed on Aziraphale’s chest, breathing heavy, thoroughly exhausted. 

Some minutes later Aziraphale’s hand found Crowley’s hair, gently fisting in it and manipulating the omega’s head in order to bring them together for a deep kiss. 

“That was…” the alpha hummed thoughtfully. “That was  _ wonderful _ , darling… But I am afraid we’ve quite despoiled the purpose of our bath.”

Crowley chuckled weakly, nuzzling sleepily into Aziraphale’s throat in search of that absolutely perfect scent. “Mmm…’s what showers’re for, angel.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a nibble, a weighty confession, and so, so much adoration. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Crowley was still fast asleep.

Aziraphale wasn’t particularly surprised, to be honest. Going through a heat was known to be exhausting at the best of times, and Crowley had rather...exerted himself during their bath. He’d practically been asleep on his feet while Aziraphale held him through a quick shower, and had all but passed out on a chair in the corner of his bedroom while Aziraphale changed the sheets and readjusted the omega’s nest. By the time they were properly curled up under a pile of sheets and pillows together, the poor dear had fully dropped off into unconsciousness, not an ounce of energy left within him. 

This left the alpha - who wasn’t nearly as knackered as his darling omega - laying with his arms wrapped around the gently snoring redhead, gazing at him with undisguised fondness. 

After some time he carefully worked his way over to the side of the bed in order to rummage around for his mobile, and nestled back in around Crowley in a position that allowed him to type easily. He responded to the several texts from Newton - who seemed just as pleased with the situation as Anathema, though he expressed it more calmly - and responded to an email from the police officers he’d met in the park informing him of what steps they would need he and Crowley to take once the omega’s heat was in order. Once that was done he set about teaching himself how to order food online, as he knew they would both need nourishment soon and didn’t expect either of them would be up for any kind of home cooking. 

It was while he was frowning and grumbling at the restaurant website - trying to work out whether his order had actually gone through or not - that Crowley’s sleepy voice met Aziraphale’s ears. 

“You’re even sexy when you’re annoyed,” the omega chuckled lightly, as if half in a dream. 

Aziraphale peered down at him with an amused smirk and felt his heart flutter at the golden eyes drooped in the bare minimum of wakefulness. “Is that so?” he needled.

Crowley smiled a little wider and nodded, eyes fluttering. “Then ‘gain, yer always sexy,” he murmured with a drowsy grin. 

Aziraphale snorted, but didn’t argue. Instead, he set his mobile aside and shifted his body so that he could wriggle back down beneath the covers and press a light kiss to the tip of his omega’s nose. “How are you feeling, my darling?” he asked. 

Crowley hummed and slithered closer, seemingly intent to bury himself beneath his alpha’s warm body. “Tired,” he admitted slowly, “but good. Unbelievably good.” After a beat he shifted his head enough to be able to look at Aziraphale again and gave him a little frown that was just shy of a pout. “But you don’t have to lay here with me if you don’t want,” he pointed out. “Mus’ be boring for you.”

Aziraphale had to bite his cheek against how adorable Crowley looked like this, well-sexed and half-comatose, and still trying to be thoughtful. He reached up to run his fingers through air-dried red waves and tenderly kissed the omega’s forehead. “I’m perfectly fine, dearest,” he insisted. “I’m rather enjoying the opportunity to be a bit slothful, if I’m being honest. And besides, while I may prefer the traditional method, I do, in fact, have access to plenty of electronic books on my mobile.”

It was Crowley’s turn to snort now, as he repeated, “Electronic books” in a gently mocking voice. He smiled at the alpha wistfully, absolute adoration in his eyes. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” he sighed. 

Aziraphale drew back a little to set the omega with a look of confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”

Crowley stuck out a lip as though the alpha was teasing him. “It’s late Sunday now, angel,” he reminded the other. “Your shop opens early tomorrow morning.”

“Normally, yes,” Aziraphale agreed with a sniff. “But not tomorrow.”

Crowley blinked a few times, obviously missing something, and then gaped at the alpha. “Angel,” he groused, “I can’t keep you away from your  _ business _ ! That’s-”

“That’s not what you’re doing,” Aziraphale assured him with a soft smile. He slid his hand down the omega’s back, holding him close in a protective, and possessive, grip. “It is entirely my choice, darling. I’ve already asked Newton to put a sign on the door. I’m quite due for a few days off anyway.”

The look in Crowley’s golden eyes was a mixture of awe and guilt. “But- But you can’t- That’s entirely-”

Aziraphale silenced him with a kiss and a cheeky little pinch of his bum. He chuckled when the omega squeaked at the touch. “I will go if you ask me to, Crowley,” he swore, sounding sad even as he suggested it, “but I already told you: this is where I want to be right now, and I shall only leave if it is your wish that I do so.”

Crowley stared for what felt like a long time. He seemed at a loss for words, and as Aziraphale watched him and tenderly stroked the small of his back, a gloss of tears seemed to spread over the omega’s eyes. A moment later, however, he had blinked them away and was smiling at his alpha with such unfettered joy that it nearly took Aziraphale’s breath away. “It will  _ never _ be my wish for you to leave,” the omega insisted, and surged forward to steal another kiss. 

For a while they just lay there, languidly enjoying one another’s presence, lips moving slow and sweet against one another. After roughly half an hour they were interrupted by a sharp knock at the front door of the flat that nearly made Crowley leap out of his skin. Aziraphale chuckled and pushed himself up, seeking something to quickly wrap around himself. “Goodness, I’d quite forgotten the food that I ordered,” he explained. “Bear with me for just a few moments, darling.”

Crowley pouted playfully from his nest while watching the alpha hurriedly toss on his trousers and button-up and take off down the hall and across the flat. 

The delivery girl - a young omega with a pretty face - who stood on the other side of the door blinked up at him in surprise when Aziraphale pulled the door open. She actually paused for a moment, gripping her large paper bag tight, and backed up a step to glance around and ensure she was at the right door. “Sorry!” she exclaimed after confirming. Her cheeks had gone a little pink. “It’s just...does Mr Crowley not live here anymore?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “Oh yes, he certainly does,” he assured her. 

“Oh!” She nodded, reaching to hand over the bag, and in mid transfer her eyes went wide, her nose twitching at the mixture of scents wafting off him. “ _ Oh! _ ” Her cheeks went a darker shade of pink, but she grinned like a kid waking at Christmas to see a pile of presents beneath the tree. “Oh, how exciting!”

Azriaphale chuckled as he took the bag and cocked his head to the side. “Do you know Crowley?” he asked, genuinely amused by the girl’s reaction. 

She shook her head. “Not, like,  _ personally _ ,” she told him, “but he orders from us a lot since we’re close by and, well…” She twirled a hand in the air, gesturing toward the interior of the flat. “I don’t know his life story or anything, but I’ve seen him at some bad moments, when he was barely holding himself up long enough to answer the door, practically starving.” She gave Aziraphale a curious once-over and seemed more-or-less pleased with whatever it was she saw. “This is the first time there’s ever been someone else here,” she explained. “It’s nice to see. I hope you’re being good to him.”

The half-smile, half-glare that she settled Aziraphale with had him caught between smirking and blushing. “I assure you,” he told her, with a slight nod of his head, “that I adore him a great deal and am doing my level best to show him all the care that he deserves.”

The girl’s glare dissolved into something soft and pleased. “Good,” she said, nodding. “That’s good.” Suddenly looking quite embarrassed, she waved toward the flat with one hand while thrusting a thumb over her shoulder toward the lift with the other. “Well I’ll, uh, let you get on with it then. I’m sure you’re both quite hungry.” She’d begun walking backwards, but gave Aziraphale a wink before turning and taking off with, “Jenn is gonna be so stoked to hear about this!” on her breath. 

There was no denying that there was a flush of bashfulness in Aziraphale’s chest at the thought of strangers at a takeaway restaurant gossiping about Crowley having an alpha who reeked of sex answering his door. But then again…there was also no denying the flash of pride and possessiveness as well. Aziraphale’s inner alpha rumbled deep within him, pleased with the idea, wanting the entire world to know that Crowley was  _ his _ , that no one else could have him, that no one else could ever touch him because-

Oh… The door was closed and Aziraphale was halfway back to the bedroom when the implications of his thought process hit him like a freight train. He very nearly stumbled over himself, stopped dead in between the living room and the kitchen, staring at nothing with wide eyes and a worried heart. He might have stood there for hours, obsessing over what he’d just discovered about himself, but the gently wafting scent of the food in the bag he held reminded him that Crowley was certain to be quite hungry by now. 

The alpha reentered his omega’s bedroom with what he hoped was a normal-looking smile on his face, bag held high. “Sustenance!” he announced, and felt his heart flutter when Crowley responded with a breathtaking grin. The omega had pulled a blanket over his lap and was hugging the tartan throw pillow like a child might hug a beloved toy. He looked so incredibly sweet and adorable that the sight made Aziraphale’s chest feel tight.

“What’d’ya order, angel?” Crowley asked, stretching to look for a logo on the bag. 

“I took a guess that you might be craving something terribly unhealthy,” the alpha replied as he sat himself in front of the omega and offered the bag. “I must have guessed well because the delivery girl said you order from here quite often.”

Crowley accepted the bag with the tips of his fingers (refusing to let go of the pillow) and peered inside. His eyes widened a little in surprise, and his grin grew even more wide. “Jacen’s Fish ‘n Chips!” he exclaimed, looking for the first time as though he’d realized how famished he really was. He dug into the bag with both hands, pulling out two Styrofoam containers and immediately thrusting one at Aziraphale. “Oh angel, you’re gonna love this. Jacen’s is the  _ best _ . It’s the  _ perfect _ food for pretending that calories don’t exist.”

The laugh that erupted from Aziraphale was genuine, even if his thoughts were being dragged elsewhere. He accepted the container Crowley had passed to him and dutifully dug back into the bag for the disposable forks while the omega pulled open his own container and began plucking at the chips with his fingers. 

Another time, Aziraphale may have playfully scolded Crowley, insisting he wash his hands up and use the provided utensils like an adult. Another time, he may have fed the omega bites of battered fish with his own fork, making a romantic game of it. Another time, he may have taken a bite of the (admittedly  _ delicious _ ) fried food and given one of his best moans, just to watch Crowley react.

Another time, perhaps… 

But as Aziraphale sat and watched the omega scarf down his food whilst forcing himself to devour his own, the alpha was distracted, because after what he’d so recently realized, he knew that there was going to have to be a ‘talk’.

And he was more than a little bit terrified about it.

He’d thought that he was doing a decent job of hiding his discontent as they enjoyed their food, but it seemed that he must have been mistaken, because as the meal wound down, Crowley began to eye him carefully, concernedly. It was only when the omega set his empty Styrofoam container aside and lifted an eyebrow at the alpha’s still-half-full one that Aziraphale flushed, realizing how transparent he truly was. 

“Something on your mind, angel?” Crowley asked, voice small and gentle. Flickers of concern interspersed with flashes of fear in his eyes. 

It was the fear that loosened Aziraphale’s tongue, because he couldn’t possibly let his darling omega think that anything was truly  _ wrong _ . “Oh Crowley,” he sighed, lips twitching into a smile as he set his own container aside. “Please don’t fret. There’s simply something I must…” He paused, breathed deep, and reached forward to take one of Crowley’s hands in both of his own. The omega was looking back at him with a slight pout to his lips that Aziraphale suspected wasn’t entirely voluntary. “I had...I had a moment, when I was away from you earlier, and it made me realize a few things that I believe bear talking about.”

His phrasing had clearly done nothing to assuage Crowley’s concerns. The omega’s brow was furrowed, his lower lip trembling minutely, his wide eyes refusing to blink. “Whatever it is, angel, you can tell me,” he managed to croak out, voice cracking just slightly. 

Oh the poor dear…

Aziraphale scooted closer and drew Crowley into his arms, gently easing them both down into the sea of pillows before pulling a soft, clean blanket up over them. Then he pressed a soft kiss to the omega’s lips and pulled back with a nervous smile. “It’s just…” His breath caught in his throat and he began again, determined to get it out. “I know...I know that we haven’t known each other for very long...and I am truly terrified that you will think I’m going too fast…” He paused to take a deep breath. Crowley’s lips twitched into a minute frown and he seemed as though he was going to say something, but Aziraphale pressed on before the omega could speak. “Darling, I...I find myself enamoured with you in a way I could never have possibly imagined prior to meeting you. You occupy my every waking thought. You are the subject of my every dream and desire. You have awakened a protectiveness and a possessiveness in me that I never knew I was capable of.”

Crowley’s gaze had softened, his eyes a shining, shimmering molten gold that swam beneath a sheen of barely-held-back tears. “Say it, angel,” he breathed, his voice hardly a whisper. “If it’s what I think you’re about to say, please say it before I explode.”

Aziraphale let out a little huff of a laugh, a significant portion of his anxiety dispelling at the omega’s request. He was surprised to find that his own eyes felt moist as well. “Crowley, dearheart…” He swallowed, bit his lip, and stared deep into the shining gold that blinked back at him. “I...I want you to be mine. Truly, properly  _ mine _ . And I yours. Because, darling...I love you. I love you so goddamn much.”

Aziraphale wasn’t precisely certain what he’d been expecting by way of a reaction. He had obviously hoped for something of a positive one. He had not, in his most optimistic expectations, thought that he would find himself hastily mounted, long fingers wrapped around his face, drawing him sharply into the most passionate and desperate kiss he could have imagined. Crowley’s tongue pressed insistently past the alpha’s lips, plundering deep, tasting him and drawing twin moans from the pair. 

Crowley only drew away when they were both starved of oxygen, gasping and gulping for it while the omega grinned down at his alpha with shining eyes. “I love you too, Aziraphale,” he rushed to say, despite his breathlessness. “Fuck, I love you so much I could  _ scream _ .” His fingers pressed back around Aziraphale’s head to card through his pale, fluffy curls. His body trembled atop the alpha, as though vibrating with an uncontainable energy. “I want you too,” he gasped, his voice a plea. “I want to be yours. I want-” His eyes were wide, as though he himself were surprised to realize that he was about to speak the words that were on his tongue. “I want you to claim me, angel.”

Beneath Aziraphale’s breast his inner alpha roared with victory, longing to take, to fuck, to bite, to  _ claim _ . Outwardly, he gnawed his lip around the grin that he couldn’t hold back and drew Crowley back down into another kiss, just as desperate and passionate as the last. 

When next they surfaced for air, Crowley’s hips were rolling and a lovely, needy whimper rose up from his throat. “I’m ready, alpha, my alpha,” he gasped, hardly able to breathe. “Take me, I’m yours, all yours, no one else’s-!”

There was no stopping the groan of pleasure that worked its way up through Aziraphale’s chest, but even as every atom of his being shouted at him to comply with his omega’s request, his hands found Crowley’s hips and held him tight, stilling him and drawing a further whimper from the omega. 

“N-not...not yet,” Aziraphale managed, forcing a smile and biting back at the alpha growling inside of him. “I will, my love, I will, but just not...not quite yet.”

Crowley whined, fighting Aziraphale’s hold in an attempt to resume his movements. The look he gave the alpha was as though he’d just been slapped in the face. “Why?” he mewled, lip quivering. “I’m  _ ready _ . I want you to!”

Aziraphale loosened his grip just enough to snake his arms around Crowley’s middle and gently pull him down before carefully flipping their positions to hover protectively over top of his darling omega. “I know you do, love,” he insisted, voice husky but determined. “And I want to, believe me. But I want it to happen when we’ve both had time to consider the implications, free of...extraneous hormones.”

The flash of upset that colored Crowley’s face showed that he understood precisely what Aziraphale was implying. “I’m not-” he whimpered, blinking rapidly. “Angel, I- I know what I want! Don’t you believe me?”

Aziraphale hushed his omega with sweet, soothing sounds and a nuzzling of their bodies to allow his scent to surround Crowley. “Shhh, darling, I do, I do…” he insisted, rubbing his nose along his omega’s cheek. “I just...I would never forgive myself if we did this while you were being influenced by...instinct...only for you to regret it later.”

“I would never-!” Crowley cried, eyes wide. Aziraphale cut him off with a fierce, hot kiss filled with adoration and promise. 

“I know, my beautiful darling,” he whispered in between nibbles of the omega’s kiss-swollen lips. “I just...need to be  _ certain _ , can you understand? Can you wait just a little while longer, for me?” He shifted to press sweet, soft kisses along Crowley’s jaw and under his chin, trailing down his throat while one hand slid slowly down to press possessive fingertips into the omega’s arse-cheek. “I’ll make it worth the wait, my love, I promise you…”

Crowley whined and squirmed, seeking friction for the half-hard cock that was coming to life between their bodies. “Y-yessss…” he half-hissed, half-groaned, throwing his head against the pillows and arching his back. “Yesss, my alpha...jussst please…” He rolled his hips up against Aziraphale, making the alpha grin against his throat. 

“Of course, dearheart. Oh, of course…”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sharing of bittersweet memories turns to comfort...which turns to a visit to Crowley's rather spacious shower...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

Crowley woke slowly as a beam of midday sun rudely passed across his eyes and warmed his skin. He squinted at the window in annoyance and wrinkled his nose at it. He’d been having such a lovely dream…

A soft, barely-there snore from behind him, however, reminded the omega that this particular dream had been real, and was still going on. 

Feeling happier than he could ever remember feeling, so much so that he couldn’t bear to contain it, he wriggled beneath the arm flung over his body until he was face-to-face with his angel, his alpha, his  _ love.  _ Aziraphale stirred at the movement, eyelids flickering, and Crowley whispered a soft, “Sorry, angel,” but also couldn’t hide his grin. 

Aziraphale pursed his lips and sniffed, eyes fluttering closed again. “Such a rude little nuisance, waking me,” he teased, and then let the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. 

Crowley pretended to gasp dramatically. “A  _ nuisance _ , am I?” he repeated in a mock-whine, thrusting out his lower lip. Without even opening his eyes Aziraphale darted in and captured that lip, drawing it between his teeth and turning the attack into a long, languid kiss that had the omega sighing with pleasure. 

“A nuisance for sure,” the alpha chuckled when they broke apart. He placed a quick peck on Crowley’s nose, his cheek, and his chin, before digging his head down against the omega’s neck, scenting and being scented, which they’d been doing as often as possible. 

Crowley revelled in it, leaning his head to give Aziraphale better access. He trailed his fingers along the alpha’s back and shoulders, loving the feel of his skin, wondering if he would ever grow bored of the silky softness and the heady scent of rich cocoa. He rather thought not, if he were being perfectly honest with himself. 

“What day is it?” Aziraphale suddenly mumbled against his shoulder. Crowley froze for a moment, before dissolving into a disbelieving bout of giggles. 

“I, um...I don’t know?” he admitted, laughing. “Tuesday? I think it’s Tuesday.”

With a snicker of his own Aziraphale rolled away for a moment in order to paw at the bedside table where their mobiles lay. His fingers found Crowley’s first and lifted it just high enough to see the numbers on the lock screen. “You’re right, darling,” he confirmed triumphantly. “It is, indeed, Tuesday.” He let the mobile fall back down and returned to his former position, fingers winding up into his lover’s hair. “We’ve barely left this bed for nearly three days.”

Crowley bit his lip and fluttered his eyelashes up at his alpha as coquettishly as he could. “Getting bored, angel?” 

Aziraphale snorted and flicked the tip of Crowley’s nose. “You know damned well that I’m not,” he growled playfully. “But perhaps a shower today, when you’re feeling up to it, hmm?”

Crowley wrinkled his nose and pretended to be insulted by the insinuation, but he only ended up breaking into another grin before wrapping his arms around his alpha and nestling close. “In a bit,” he promised, pressing his face against that deliciously plush chest. “Wanna snuggle first.”

Their bodies both vibrated as Aziraphale chuckled. “Speaking of snuggling, darling...” he prompted slowly, digging for a reaction. Crowley gave it to him by way of lifting his head just enough to let the alpha see the lift of his eyebrow. The moment he’d caught the omega’s gaze, Aziraphale grinned like a besotted fool and lifted a plush bundle of black and red up above their heads. “I’ve been meaning to ask; what exactly is the story with this?” he smirked. 

Crowley felt his cheeks flush hot as he reached out and snatched the plush snake out of Aziraphale’s hand to bring it down to his own chest, held tight. The alpha immediately softened, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of the omega’s head. “I don’t mean to tease, love,” he swore, nuzzling red waves. “I’m just curious. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“It was the last thing my parents ever gave me.”

Crowley felt, rather than heard, Aziraphale’s sharp intake of breath. He hadn’t meant to just blurt it out like that, but beating around the bush seemed somehow silly after all that they’d been through together recently. So he sighed, and squirmed, and held out the plush toy so that Aziraphale could see it. “Mother always called me her little serpent,” he said with a small smile. “I was always crawling around in the garden, poking at the plants and catching bugs and mice. That, combined with my eyes...father thought it suited me too, and they both used to tease me, saying that I’d better hide whenever large birds or cats were around.” He huffed a little laugh at the happy memory, long gone. “They bought me this snake less than a week before their accident. Said it looked  _ just _ like me and that I could use it as a decoy to trick the birds.” 

Crowley could feel Aziraphale shift against him, seeming to consider whether or not to speak. The omega saved him the trouble by continuing on himself. “They both scented it before… Obviously their scents are  _ long _ gone now, but it’s still… It’s important to me… I always keep it close for times when I feel...alone.” His smile had wavered, become something much more melancholy, but then he lifted his head to meet his alpha’s bright blue eyes, so full of love and kindness. “I haven’t needed it at all these past three days...something of a record for me, honestly.”

That brought a smile back to Aziraphale’s face. He leaned in for a soft, warm kiss, and then nestled them back into their previous position, now with the plush snake snuggled between them. 

Crowley rubbed his thumb along the top of the snake’s head, thoughts forming in his own that caused a sinking feeling in his stomach. Aziraphale must have been able to sense something in his scent or the rigidness of his body because he stroked his fingers comfortingly through the omega’s hair and asked, “Alright, dearest?”

The snake’s yellow eyes stared back at Crowley, urging him on. 

“Angel…” he began slowly, swallowing hard and fidgeting a bit. “You...you know... “ He bit his lip, took a deep breath, and let it all out in one gush of air. “You know I can’t have children, right?”

The movement of Aziraphale’s fingers stuttered for only a moment, but it was enough for Crowley to know that he’d thrown the alpha off-kilter. “Well...yes,” Aziraphale responded carefully, curiously. “Anathema explained the details of your condition to me...and I believe you yourself brought it up during one of our dinners.”

Crowley nodded against the alpha’s chest, remembering. “Yeah…” he murmured. “S’just…” He couldn’t decide whether to sigh or hold his breath and somehow ended up managing to do both. “Do you- Do you  _ want _ kids, angel?”

There was no stutter of movement this time, but Aziraphale did sink his fingers down and around to Crowley’s chin to gently lift it up so that he could look into the omega’s eyes. “Where is this suddenly coming from, love?” he asked. 

Crowley tried to shrug, to look nonchalant and unaffected by the conversation, though he knew that he was failing miserably. “I just thought...you know...if that’s something  _ you _ wanted, and I can’t- I can’t-” His voice cracked and he forced a humorless laugh to try and cover it up. The effort was utterly wasted when a few tears escaped his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. 

“Oh  _ darling _ …” Aziraphale soothed, his blue eyes shining. He let his hand wrap back around to the back of Crowley’s head so that he could pull them together, foreheads pressed lovingly. “I must admit,” he sighed, “that I’d never really given the idea of children much thought, previously. Until I met you, I’d had no relationships that resulted in that kind of paternal longing.” His thumb ran along the back of Crowley’s ear, tickling and calming in equal measure. “Now that I  _ have _ met you, I can honestly say, my love, that there is no one else in this world or any other whom I’d consider raising little ones with.”

Far from comforting him, this statement only made further tears fall from Crowley’s eyes, and a small sob escaped his chest. “But I can’t-” he gasped, despondent. “I  _ can’t,  _ so-”

Aziraphale captured his tear-streaked lips in a feather-light kiss. “There are other ways to build a family, if one chooses, my love,” he sighed, a half-smile lighting his face. “If that is something we both wish to pursue someday, I promise you, I will be right there beside you and we will figure it all out together.”

Unfortunately, now that the tears were falling Crowley couldn’t seem to get them to stop, but he managed a small, soft smile even as they fell in abundance. “Really?” he asked, his chest and throat tight. “B-because I always kinda figured I would...someday...and then the doctors told me…” He couldn’t continue, choosing to stop and sniffle instead. 

Aziraphale’s eyes could not have betrayed anything more than a heady, unconditional love. “ _ Really _ , my darling omega,” he whispered against his lover’s skin. “I swear to you here and now, that there is no hurdle I wouldn’t face with you by my side. I will spend my days doing everything I can to make your life a happy one, my dearest, sweet love. And if children turn out to be a part of that, we will do our research and make a decision together.”

Another sob broke from Crowley’s chest, but this one was accompanied by a watery smile and a forward lunge to capture his alpha’s lips. The omega felt as though his very being might burst from the sheer force of his love for this wonderful, beautiful man beside him. As if all of his other issues hadn’t been enough, there were so few men out there - alphas in particular - who were willing to overlook an omega’s inability to carry their genes. The fact that Aziraphale barely waved a hand at the conversation, that he was more than happy to explore other avenues, if that day came… For what felt like the hundredth time Crowley wondered how he could have possibly been so lucky to have met this perfect creature and be  _ loved _ by him…

Aziraphale’s fingers were carding through Crowley’s hair while his lips pressed little trails across the squirming omega’s face. The alpha grinned and nipped playfully at a sharp cheekbone before pressing their foreheads together again and sighing. “You know, darling,” he said thoughtfully, “Your body has significantly cooled since yesterday. I suspect your heat may be coming to an end.”

Crowley wrinkled his nose at that, lips pursed together. “Nah, can’t be…” he mused, brow furrowed. “I’ve never had one so short.”

Aziraphale considered that for a moment, and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve also never genuinely enjoyed an alpha’s scent, right?”

Blinking rapidly, taking that in, Crowley’s eyes grew wide. “You...you think whatever this…anomaly is between us...it’s regulated my heat to something more normal?” Oh, if that were true…

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale stated, smiling. “Or perhaps you just needed to be truly well-fucked to get things on the right course.”

Despite everything, that word on Aziraphale’s tongue made Crowley flush a hot pink. “Angel!” he scandalized. “Language!”

Aziraphale chuckled and ducked forward to steal another kiss. “Do you disagree, darling?”

Crowley snorted. “Well, no, I suppose not,” he admitted with a chuckle of his own. “But damn...if you’re right...do you really think my heat is letting off already?”

Aziraphale hummed, considering. He ducked his head in against Crowley’s neck, breathing low and deep with his eyes closed and brow furrowed. After a moment he pulled back and smiled, his eyes bright. “Your scent has most definitely settled, love. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I think it may already be over.”

There was no stopping the grin of genuine amazement that spread over Crowley’s face. The very thought that one of his heats could have passed so quickly… Upon second thought, he frowned and stuck his lip out in a pout. “Dammit, that means you have no excuse to stay here and keep fucking me through the mattress!”

He’d said it as a joke, and it certainly did get a snort of laughter from the alpha, but after the initial reaction Aziraphale settled into a coy smile, fingers trailing around his omega’s throat and pressing down his spine. “I’ll never need an  _ excuse _ for that, darling,” he announced, blue eyes flashing. “Or perhaps you could visit mine for a night and I could fuck you into  _ that _ mattress?”

“S-shit, angel…” His biological heat may have dissipated, but the heat in his alpha’s eyes was making him squirm in delicious ways. He could already feel his body becoming more than a little bit interested in the possibilities. “Maybe-” he began, stopping to gnaw at his lip as Aziraphale’s firm fingers found the meat of his arse. He took a sharp, deep breath. “M-maybe-...s-shower?”

Aziraphale’s eyes went a shade darker at the stammered suggestion. “Mmm...yes, I think that’s a  _ lovely _ idea…”

The alpha shifted up and made as though to pick the omega up, but this time Crowley scrambled out of his grasp and rolled out of his nest. Once standing he drew in a breath and offered both of his hands to the confused Aziraphale, earning himself a sweet smile. The alpha reached out and took both of the omega’s hands, letting himself be guided out of their nest and across the room to the door. Crowley’s heart fluttered as they made their way to the bathroom and the sizable glass shower in the corner. The last time he had shared this shower with Aziraphale he had been so tired he’d scarcely registered being in it. This time he was wide awake, and he had  _ thoughts _ about how he wanted this to go…

Just outside the shower doors Crowley pressed a hand to Aziraphale’s chest and gazed at him from beneath his eyelashes, silently asking him to wait there for one moment. The alpha bit his lip and nodded, and made no attempt to hide the way his gaze drifted down to the omega’s arse as he turned. Crowley let himself grin at that, basking in the heady thrill of knowing that his body pleased his alpha. 

When he had the shower spray set to the perfect temperature, Crowley turned and crooked a finger in front of his face, beckoning Aziraphale in. The alpha complied with a little amused huff and a smirk that set the omega’s heart on fire. 

“No need to tempt me, darling,” Aziraphale teased. “You’ve already quite accomplished that particular feat.” To further prove his own point the alpha crowded up against his omega against the shower wall, where the spray poured down over both of them. Strong hands lifted to lean shoulders and squeezed, while a thick thigh nestled between long legs and  _ pressed _ . 

Crowley shivered all over; the dual sensations of the hot water running down his skin and Aziraphale’s body pressing hot against his half-hard cock were almost too much not to give in to. But the omega had a plan, and every intention of seeing it through, so he dove forward for a wet, sliding kiss and surreptitiously reached behind Aziraphale to grab his loofah and a bottle of body wash. 

Aziraphale lifted an eyebrow in surprise when Crowley broke the kiss and brought the two items up between them, but he seemed to melt at the way the omega fluttered his eyelashes questioningly. 

“May I wash you, my alpha?” Crowley asked, flushing a little at how breathless he sounded. 

A soft, curious sound left Aziraphale’s throat in response. “Only if I may return the favor, my omega.”

Crowley grinned, lifted an arm to brush some of the wet hair from his face, and quickly lathered some body wash into the loofah. When he was ready he looked up into Aziraphale’s eyes to find the alpha looking back at him with fondness and something like wonder. It made the omega feel warm and pleasantly achy all over. 

He brought the sudsy sponge to Aziraphale’s chest slowly and let his gaze fall to his own hands as he worked. Aziraphale stood still, but pliant, while Crowley worked the soap over his broad chest in sweeping motions. 

Down to the soft swell of his stomach…

Around to his strong back and shoulders…

Over the plump roundness of his arse…

By the time Crowley was on his knees, worshipping the backs of those thick thighs and calves with soap and pressure, he felt his cock beginning to drip and ache. His alpha’s body was just so fucking perfect...how could he not be a complete mess over every inch of it?

His voice was thick and longing when he asked Aziraphale to, “Turn around, please.”

The alpha acquiesced without hesitation, which brought the evidence of  _ his _ arousal right in front of Crowley’s face. The omega swallowed, hard, and bit back a whimper. He allowed his gaze to flick up, only to see that Aziraphale had his eyes closed, focusing on the sensations. Oh...well in that case… Crowley began to rub the loofah up and down one of his alpha’s legs, slowly, lazily, before moving to the other, and then up…

Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath as the slick soap and soft sponge brushed against his knot and up the length of his stiff cock. Crowley grinned at the reaction, then squeezed the suds into his hand and tossed the loofah aside. Taking his alpha’s girth in hand, he stroked slow and steady and kept his gaze on his alpha’s face, watching with awe as his touch drew out expressions of pleasure and need. 

“Dear lord, Crowley…” Aziraphale groaned, face tilted back into the shower’s spray. “As...as lovely as this is…” He paused to let out another little groan, hips stuttering. “Mmm...we had a deal, dearest…” At this the alpha forced his eyes open and his gaze down, locking a shaky smile on the omega beneath him. “Come up here you little  _ minx _ .”

Crowley grinned like a cheshire cat, but obeyed, slithering his way back up his alpha’s body by trailing his soapy hand up and around those strong shoulders. He pulled himself close, rolling his hips to let Aziraphale feel how similarly aroused he was. The alpha’s eyes flashed with hunger and desire, but his jaw clenched stubbornly. He held Crowley’s gaze while he leaned down to retrieve the loofah and add more body wash to it. 

Crowley had never been washed by someone else before. Well, okay, no, that was a lie, because Aziraphale had done it not so long ago when the omega had been far too exhausted to even really register that it was happening. But this may as well have been the first time, and oh… He’d suspected the idea would be intimate, which was why he’d wanted to do it to Aziraphale in the first place, but he couldn’t have imagined the  _ heat _ of it. The loofah glided along his skin, slipping and sliding with almost painfully gentle sweeps. Each brush felt like fire, like ice, like a tender breeze on bare flesh. He let his eyes flutter closed, the way Aziraphale had done, his head tilting back under the hot water. His whole body shuddered when the loofah brushed against his nipples, the hollow of his throat, the small of his back… God, he’d never realized how many sensitive spots he had…

The loofah ran up the insides of his thighs, making Crowley sigh and shiver. Then a hot, wet sensation that was most certainly  _ not  _ a soapy loofah enveloped his cock, causing his eyes to shoot open with surprise just before a desperate moan was ripped from him. He looked down, chest fluttering with rapid breaths, and nearly passed out at the sight of his alpha on his knees, plush pink lips wrapped around him and sinking lower. Aziraphale hollowed his cheeks and  _ hummed _ , and Crowley stumbled, nearly collapsing at the sensation but just managing to catch himself against the shower wall, hands pressed hard against the tiles. 

Aziraphale’s brilliant blue eyes flicked up to meet Crowley’s, knocking all the air out of the omega. And then...oh  _ fuck _ ...the alpha’s blunt fingers pressed up between his arse cheeks even as his gorgeous mouth continued to suck and slide. Crowley keened when two fingers pressed into him, immediately seeking out the spot that made him wail. Aziraphale  _ pressed _ and stroked and licked and sucked and-

Crowley was right there -  _ right there  _ \- when everything vanished at once, leaving him bereft and whimpering, his cock  _ throbbing _ . 

“Shhhhhh, darling,” came his alpha’s voice next to his ear, puffing hot breath against his skin. “I’ve got you…”

Then there were hands on his arse, lifting him, maneuvering him until his back was pressed against the shower wall and his legs were wrapped around his alpha’s gorgeous middle. Aziraphale shifted, nose pressed against the omega’s throat, and released one arse cheek in order to grab and position himself. Crowley said  _ something _ \- it may have been desperate, meaningless babble at this point - and then he was sinking down onto his alpha’s thick cock and a sob of pleasure was falling from his lips. 

It was all quite difficult to focus on after that. Aziraphale pounded into him, dragging out slowly, thrusting in sharply, striking his prostate relentlessly and pressing close so that Crowley’s cock was caught in the delicious friction between their bodies. It may have gone on like that for minutes or hours, the omega had no idea. All he knew was the building, inevitable crash rushing toward him, beckoning him. 

It came without warning, hard and fast and absolutely fucking glorious. His body pulsed and clenched and  _ screamed _ \- or perhaps that was him screaming? - and he felt Aziraphale’s thrusts stutter, become disjointed and frantic. The alpha’s teeth pressed against the flesh of his throat and- He didn’t bite down...not just yet...but Crowley thrilled at the sensation, at the promise, and the hot, pulsing fill that made them both groan and melt into one another. 

As the hot water pounded down around them, Aziraphale let his jaw go slack, withdrew his teeth with a shudder, and instead laved the flat of his tongue against Crowley’s scent gland. “Soon,” he growled, answering the omega’s unspoken question. “Oh, so soon, my love…”

Crowley could hardly fucking wait.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema gets an extremely pleasant and exciting surprise!  
> Later, Aziraphale presents Crowley with a delightful-sounding 'date'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!

The doorbell jingled. Anathema looked up from where she was pouring over some paperwork on the cash desk of  _ Eden _ ’s shop, and her jaw subsequently dropped. “Wha-?” came spilling unintelligently from her mouth. 

Crowley lifted a hand in a cheeky wave. “Mornin’ Ana!” he greeted with a grin. 

Anathema’s rapidly-blinking eyes went from Crowley, to the calendar hanging on the wall behind the desk, to the mobile she snatched out of her pocket, and back to Crowley. “It’s Wednesday!” she exclaimed, gobsmacked. 

Crowley snorted and strolled into the shop with a practiced nonchalance, making his way to the desk in order to reach over and flick his bestie on the tip of her nose. “Congratulations, Sherlock,” he teased.

“ _ Ant! _ ” she practically screamed back in his face. “It’s only been three days!”

He’d intended to play it cool. He really had. There’d been a whole plan that revolved around brushing off his reappearance as though nothing unusual had happened at all. But when it came down to it, the obvious shock and enthusiasm in Anathema’s eyes was just too much to handle. 

“I  _ know! _ ” Crowley cried, grin splitting his face from ear-to-ear. 

Anathema practically threw herself over the desk, and it was a fair thing that the shop wasn’t actually open to customers yet, because for the next few moments there was a rather great deal of screaming and squealing and nonsensical dancing around in excited circles that would have likely terrified the casual plant enthusiast. 

“Crowley, my god, you’ve  _ never _ had a heat this short! Something happened! What happened?! You have to tell me  _ everything! _ ” Anathema demanded, dragging him back to their little break room out back. She practically shoved him into a seat and set about making him a coffee from the fancy machine they’d both agreed was a necessary addition to the nursery. 

“Well, maybe not  _ everything _ ,” Crowley teased, eyebrow raised. “I’m not sure you want all the little intimate details about how Aziraphale bent me over and licked my-”

“La la la la la la la la la la, not listeninnnnng!” Anathema sang at the top of her lungs with her hands pressed over her ears. Crowley laughed uproariously until she’d decided it was safe to calm back down and stuck her tongue out at him. “You know damn well what I mean,” she groused. “Start back at the beginning: what exactly happened at the park?”

Crowley contemplated this until a hot, fragrant coffee had been pressed into his hands and his best friend was sitting opposite him, leaning forward with visible desperation for the story. “It was...it was terrifying, Ana,” he began slowly, rubbing a finger over the lip of his mug. “Aziraphale wasn’t even gone long, and he obviously didn’t think there’d be any problem if I just sat off to the side for a few minutes while I waited for him… But I guess my scent must have been getting pretty strong, and of all people that  _ asshole _ from before showed up.” There was a bit of a growl in his throat at the memory. “I wanted to defend myself, but he had two mates with him, and my heat was coming on so fast, I could hardly think. He...he said some really awful things…” 

Anathema sucked in a breath and let it out again as a vicious rumble in the depths of her chest. “I wish I had him here right now,” she growled. “I’d tear his fucking face off.”

The thought of it had Crowley grinning again. “I’d very much like to see that,” he agreed. 

She offered him a smile, and then waved a hand for him to go on. 

“So Aziraphale shows back up right as it’s getting pretty bad,” he continued, “and I’m freaking out because he’s outnumbered and he’s making it pretty damned clear that he intends to defend me if the bastard doesn’t step off. Then the fucker, he suggests  _ fighting  _ for me, like I’m a fucking  _ prize _ to be won.”

Anathema dutifully raised both eyebrows and made a choked noise in the back of her throat. “And what did Zira do?” she asked, excitedly. 

“He says, get this…’You’ll lose’. Totally deadpan, just like that.”

The sound Anathema made at that was halfway between a laugh and bark of shocked disbelief. “He  _ didn’t _ !”

“He did!” Crowley assured her, grinning like a madman now. “And then the fucker rushed him, and- Fuck, Ana, you should have seen it… I barely saw what happened myself, I was in so much shock. Aziraphale just kinda...caught the guy’s arm as he threw a punch, and did this funny twist-throw-thing, and all of a sudden the bastard was face-down on the ground with a broken arm and Aziraphale’s foot on his neck!”

Sometime during that sentence both of Anathema’s hands had lifted to her mouth. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh  _ wow _ !” she breathed, impressed. “I mean, I remember him mentioning once that he’d had a couple of years of military training...some kind of family tradition, they all do it, apparently...but I honestly just kinda always pictured him doing clerical stuff. I can’t even  _ imagine _ Zira  _ fighting _ someone!” 

Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I get it,” he admitted. “He’s so fucking... _ gentlemanly _ . But seriously, Ana, he’s so much stronger than he looks, and the way he held that guy down... _ fuck… _ ” He stopped short of admitting that he was getting riled up again just thinking about it. 

Anathema must have had suspicions about the direction his thought process was taking, though, because she veered off a bit. “So, after the police and everything, he took you home like he was originally going to, right?”

Crowley nodded, grinning and perhaps blushing a bit. “Right. And then I, uh…” He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. “I asked him to stay with me.”

He nearly went flying backwards over his chair because Ana burst forward to smack him in the chest with both hands. “ _ Get out! _ ” she cried, gaping. “You little  _ slut! _ ”

Once he’d righted himself and saved his coffee from falling off the table as a result of his jolt, Crowley snorted and lifted an eyebrow at his friend. “You already knew that bit!” he pointed out, laughing.

“I knew he  _ stayed _ ,” she corrected with volume. “I didn’t know  _ you asked him to _ !”

Another raised eyebrow. “What, you figured he just invited himself in and insisted on staying?”

“Look, I don’t  _ know  _ what I thought, just- Oh, for fuck sakes-” Anathema threw her hands in the air, exasperated but fond. “So wait, did he, uh…” She made a vague gesture in the direction of her neck. “Those can’t have been comfortable for that length of time.”

And here was the good bit, the bit Crowley had been practically vibrating to share. “Oh, he didn’t wear the patches,” he said with very little fanfare, not even looking at Anathema as he spoke. “Turns out he smells like chocolate.”

There was a brief moment during which gears turned and worked to bring Anathema’s brain to the proper realization. In that moment there was silence, save for the loud, obnoxious slurp of coffee that Crowley purposely chose to take just then. 

When the moment passed, that quiet immediately became a cacophony of shrieking squeals. Anathema leapt to her feet, knocking her chair backward onto the floor as she began jumping up and down like an absolute lunatic. She was shouting words - English words, possibly - but they were coming out at such a velocity and frequency so as to be practically unintelligible. It soon became clear that she was running on some kind of as-yet-unknown inexhaustible power source, so Crowley stood, grabbed her by both shoulders, and pulled her into a firm hug. 

“I don’t understand any of it, Ana,” he muttered behind her back, incapable of wiping the smile from his face. “He smells like chocolate, and with him my heat passed so fast I hardly realized it, and he treats me like I’m something precious, and...and…” He drew back far enough to be able to look into his best friend’s eyes, knowing that his own were glossed over. “He says he  _ loves _ me, Ana.”

He finished talking, and in the following moment it almost seemed as though Anathema was going to resume her nonsensical stream of shrieks and squeals. But, instead, her face melted into a soft, adoring smile before she wrapped her arms around Crowley and pulled him back into an exceptionally tight, protective hug. 

“Oh,  _ Ant _ ...how could he possibly  _ not _ ?”

* * *

Crowley spent the day back at work, thoroughly pleased with how little time he’d missed and how little catch-up was required of him as a result of the short heat. He and Anathema startled customers by singing along with the nursery’s sound system at the top of their lungs, favoring cheesy 80’s love ballads throughout the day. Crowley made a positively disgusting number of bouquets and pranced around the shop offering them half-off to every customer who walked in. 

At lunchtime Newt showed up to visit Anathema and was just as shocked as she had been to see Crowley there so soon. Crowley regaled him with a shorter version of the story he’d given Anathema earlier and told him that Aziraphale had planned to open the bookshop today if he wanted to pop in and see him as well. 

The afternoon went by much in the same vein, although Crowley was actually even  _ more _ cheerful because he knew he was going to be seeing his angelic alpha again soon. He felt a  _ little _ silly for missing Aziraphale already, when they’d only been apart for roughly eight hours, but it wasn’t as though he could help it. He was in  _ love _ . Wildly, madly in love. So in love that he thought he might actually burst from it. 

It was nearly the end of the day when - as he was relocating a few small pots of African violets to a sun spot in the front shop - he noticed Anathema watching him from behind the cash desk. She was gazing at him with such a sappy look on her face that he couldn’t help but stop and smile back at her before sauntering over to lean over the counter toward her. “Whatchya thinkin’ about, witchy woman?” he teased. 

The alpha’s lips twitched upward, but there also seemed to be something...oh! Crowley realized quite suddenly, with wide eyes and confusion, that his best friend’s eyes were glassy, as though she was just barely holding back tears. “W-what’s wrong?” he demanded immediately. There was never any doubt that, between the two of them, Anathema was the stronger one in nearly every conceivable way, but Crowley was absolutely ready to throw hands if someone had said something or done something or-

“I’m just so goddamned happy for you,” the alpha sighed, lower lip quivering. 

Crowley blinked back at her, and his chest felt a little tight with the admission. “O-oh…”

A long moment passed, and then suddenly Anathema had leaped the desk and into Crowley’s arms, her own crushing around him in a bear hug tight enough to crack his ribs. “ _ God _ , Ant, it’s just…” She was sobbing openly now, but laughing too, a veritable meltdown of emotions. “I’ve never seen you so happy since we were kids, and it’s so,  _ so _ wonderful to see because I love you so much and- and-!”

Crowley crushed her right back, burying his face in her long brown hair to hide the spill of his own tears, though he was certain she knew by the way he was sniffling. “I love you too, Ana,” he mumbled against her ear. “Thank you so much for...for everything. For always being there.”

Anathema made a squeaking, whimpering kind of sound that  _ may  _ have been words, though Crowley wasn’t entirely certain. He understood anyway, and squeezed her all the harder in response. 

A soft, amused voice carried to them on the edge of a chuckle. “Am I interrupting something? Should I come back later, perhaps?”

Crowley and Anathema broke apart with soft chuckles and pink faces, simultaneously swiping at teary eyes as they turned to face the smirking bookseller at their shop’s door. Aziraphale took in the sight of them with a slight spark of concern in his eyes, though he seemed to understand that it was not necessarily his place to ask questions. The realization of this made Crowley smile; he’d had more than a few dates with both men and women who were foolishly (and frustratingly) jealous of his relationship with Anathema, so it was just one more important point to Aziraphale’s pros that he seemed to be perfectly comfortable with them. 

Even as Crowley was busy contemplating this, his angel began to approach them, only for Anathema to unexpectedly  _ throw _ herself across the shop and wrap around the baffled bookseller. His eyes were wide with surprise until the woman’s soft voice grumbled against his shoulder, “ _ Thank you _ ...thank you so much for protecting him. And for loving him.”

Aziraphale chuckled at that, returning the hug with an enthusiastic squeeze. “You hardly need to thank me for something that comes as easily as breathing, my dear.”

Crowley felt warmth fill his veins at his alpha’s words. With a smile that you couldn’t have  _ torn  _ from his face, he strode forward and snatched the back of Anathema’s shirt collar to pull her away from Aziraphale. “Alright, alright,  _ mine _ ,” he growled playfully before inserting himself into his alpha’s newly emptied arms. Aziraphale and Anathema both laughed at that, though the former’s mirth was cut off by a sweet kiss from his omega. 

“Crepes, angel?” Crowley asked, nuzzling their noses together sweetly. 

Aziraphale’s answering growl sounded hungry in more ways than one and made the omega’s heart skip a beat. “I’ve been anticipating them all day, my love.”

Anathema cleared her throat to remind them that she was still standing right there next to them, then waved a hand in the direction of the door in a ‘shoo’ motion. “Go on then, lovebirds,” she teased. “Get out of here before I retch.”

Aziraphale chuckled and Crowley stuck out his tongue, and they all grinned at one another as the couple turned to abide their friend’s command. 

The restaurant was only a moment’s walk away, but when they were barely halfway there Aziraphale entwined his fingers with Crowley’s and gave him a little tug, bidding him stop. The omega gave him a questioning look and noticed a lovely little hint of pink playing across the alpha’s nose and cheekbones. 

“I was wondering,” Aziraphale began, sounding a bit as though he’d rehearsed on the way here, “if perhaps you might be free to take a small trip with me next weekend?”

Crowley could scarcely stop the way his eyes lit up at the very prospect, but he did his best to play at being casual about it. “Oh? What kind of trip, angel?” he inquired. 

Aziraphale’s free hand played at the edge of his waistcoat, a little nervous tic that Crowley had noticed on occasion and thought was absolutely charming. “I have this small cottage,” the alpha explained. “It’s something of a getaway spot; left to me by my aunt and uncle when they’d both passed. It’s out in the South Downs, very secluded, very private…” He enunciated the words slowly, as though to ensure Crowley understood precisely the point he was trying to make. “I thought perhaps, if there’s nothing too important that needs doing in the nursery, that you might join me there for a long weekend...just the two of us...no neighbors...lovely garden out back…” 

As he spoke Aziraphale’s thumb had begun rubbing up and down the back of Crowley’s hand, making the redhead shiver with delight. He hummed, mocking consideration even as his heart hammered and his inner omega purred relentlessly. “A weekend completely alone with my handsome alpha, somewhere that no one can hear me screaming?” He flushed at his own words, but also chuckled when Aziraphale did the same. 

“Just  _ try _ to keep me away.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely readers; if you enjoy my fan-fiction and want to see more of what I do, you can check out my author blog at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com, where you'll find links to my social media, my original work, and more. Check it out and feel free to say hello!


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